#that I could think about my ankle and it would hurt until I was able to stop thinking about it

[wheelchairtetris]

10. what is something you want other people to know about your physical disability/disabilities?

15. when and how did you discover the cripple punk movement?

17. when did you start to consider yourself physically disabled?

yay asks

10. Lots of different things I guess but mainly that I don't trust doctors anymore and that doctors do not care about me. That treatment options have ranged from unhelpful to harmful and have been entirely based on a "throw shit at the wall and see what sticks" approach. Like, I shit you not, that is how at least two of my doctors have described it, both of whom gave up after two meds and physical therapy. I cannot really tell you what my disabilities are because my doctors have been even less interested in figuring out what's happening than they are in fixing it. That I am tired of self advocacy because it hasn't gotten me anywhere, and yet my symptoms keep progressing!

15. I encountered cripple punk when I was in high school experiencing my first major pain/fatigue flare. I didn't know what was happening, doctors didn't care, but I saw the cpunk community on tumblr talking about things I was going through and felt a connection to. I didn't join the community because I didn't consider myself disabled at that point. When my flare ended after ~6 months and everyone (including myself) felt like I'd been magically cured, I kind of forgot about the community. When my symptoms came back a little less than two years later, I found that people were still talking about cpunk and as I dealt with coming to terms with disability, it was (and continues to be) a movement that shaped my perspective on how I move through the world.

17. Around 19 years old? Whenever I realized that this time my symptoms weren't magically going away and my movement disorder developed. Might have been sooner if someone had told child me that your back isn't supposed to hurt constantly and that it isn't a fun little superpower to be able to "make yourself feel pain" simply by being aware of a body part.

[capsi-cuminme]

Blowing Off Steam

summary: in which you're very stressed, and sparring is the only way you can destress. you're having trouble finding a partner though, so logan volunteers to help.

pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: mild swearing, fingering, some dirty talk, lots of horny thoughts, 18+ MDNI

author's note: ahhhh sweaty logan on a fighting mat is all i need. anyways, thank you guys sm for the response on my other fic, as a gift i bring you smut ;)

•──✦──•

You’re stressed. You’ve been overworking yourself, you know it, and you need to relax, destress. Your body feels wound up with tension and energy, and you’re unable to release it. It’s not like you have super complicated abilities that mess with your mind and make you lose your shit, no - that’s Jean’s set of troubles, not yours. Your ability is simple enough - super strength. 

So what is it that isn’t simple then? Right. Someone you can actually truly train with and exert yourself out with. There aren’t a load of people who can physically keep up with your strength, not except Colossus, and even he’s just a kid. So when, at times, you want to blow some steam by training, you have next to no one to do it with. 

Or, you didn’t, not until Logan came along. You’ve sparred with him a couple of times, but only for excessively short periods of time, due to you not being able to keep your shit together because of his overwhelming attractiveness. Honestly, you don’t think it’s your fault that you’re unable to focus; his arms look like he could rip apart logs of wood with them, his shoulders are so wide that they’re practically made for people to rest their ankles on, and his demeanor - his understated, wolfish demeanor makes you go insane. 

And as if all these things weren’t bad enough on their own, they tend to get exponentially exemplified whenever you guys spar. Obviously, fighting makes him breathe hard and stuff. So your life becomes even tougher. 

Really, you aren’t trying to be horny around him all the time. But that’s the thing. You’re pent up, stressed, overworked. Being a member of the X-Men means that it gets really hard to get laid due to several factors, and then when your coworkers are so hot? God help you. 

As you sit on the gym’s bench, staring at the sparring mats, you strain your mind to think of someone to spar with. You could ask Colossus, the kid’s always more than ready and could give you some competition on one of your bad days. But there’s too much of a risk. You’re already restless with energy, itching to let yourself go; in case the kid isn’t prepared or you get too excited, you’d end up hurting him, which is something you can’t risk. 

You could maybe go to Ororo and Scott, ask them to come at you together? The two of them together would successfully tire you out. Maybe they’d become a bit more than you’re mentally willing to handle. You don’t want to have to strategise at every step. 

God, you just need someone who can handle whatever you throw at them without having to think too much. Unfortunately for you, there’s only one person in the mansion who can do that. 

“Oh hey Bub, what you doing here? Got no classes to teach?” The somehow smooth but gravelly voice breaks you out of your train of thought as you turn to look at Logan, entering the gymnasium. 

Internally rejoicing at his choice of clothes - the white wifebeater under the oversized jacket - while simultaneously praying that he isn’t here to stay, you get up from your seat to speak to him. “Oh, nothing much. Just wanted to blow off some steam.”

“And you’re blowing off steam by… sitting on the bench?” He raises an eyebrow, looking at you questioningly. 

You sigh through your nose, smiling exhaustedly. “No, genius. I was confused about what I should do to destress.”

Your prayers go down the drain as you notice his eyes light up at the prospect of a sparring partner. Nodding to the mats, he asks, “You wanna go?”

Tongue in cheek, you review your options for a moment. Go to bed frustrated and stressed, or fight an extremely attractive man who’s also able to keep up with you. 

“Sure, let’s go.” 

And that’s how you find yourself attempting to elbow Logan in the face. He dodges and takes a step back, but not too far. Turning, you see the grin etched on his face. Taking it as a challenge, you feign a movement to the right, but attack from the left. Your arm aims for his face, but he deflects it by pushing your momentum to one side, stepping away and behind you and putting you into a headlock.

“What’s up?” he murmurs into your ear. “Can’t figure out what to do? Are you really that tired, huh?” 

You felt his chest heave from behind you, his warm breath tickling your ear. Body humming with excitement and mind buzzing with the thrill of finally being in an equal match, you grit your jaw, throwing your head back against his. As much as you enjoy the tone of his voice, you hope it hits him in the mouth just so he can shut up, because being aroused is not something you’re looking forward to. 

Yes you’re horny, maybe even a little perverted, but you truly don’t have any ulterior motives. 

Logan hisses as his grip on you loosens. Shimmying your way out of his grip, you lunge at him, arms ready to swing, but instead of throwing a punch when you get near, you use your leg to swipe at his legs, resulting in him landing on his back.

Silently rejoicing, you straddle him, pulling your arm back to land a punch on his jaw, but unfortunately he grabs hold of your arms before you can do that. As a result, you’re left heaving on top of him, arms immobile, face right above his. You don’t miss the way he breathes, sweat trickling down his forehead, eyes glinting with something you can’t fully identify. You also don’t miss the dampness of your underwear, the electricity you feel where you’re sitting on him. You realize you’re playing a dangerous game. Just as you’re about to make a move to get up, Logan suddenly moves you by the grip he has on your arms, slamming you onto the mats with considerable force. He looms on top of you, looking down. You squeak in indignant surprise, but he pins your arms on both sides of your face, lodging his thigh between yours. You gasp, not expecting the sudden escalation of events. “Darling, you know I’ve got a heightened sense of smell, right?” he asks, drawling. “I can smell your arousal, practically feel how you’re soaking down there.” Eyes wide and mouth agape, you stare up at him, not sure what to say, how to apologize. “Logan, I- I’m sor-” “Don’t have to say a word, Darling, I’m the same as you,” he emphasizes his point by rolling his hips against yours. You whimper quietly, feeling his erection pressing against your clit. “If I’m not interpreting this correctly, you can stop me,” he hums, getting closer to your face. Waiting for your approval, he looks at you. You close the distance between the both of you, borderline moaning as you feel his tongue grazing against your lips, asking to enter your mouth. More than willing, you grant him entry freely, whimpering as his tongue explores your mouth. You break the kiss, short of breath, but your distance doesn’t last long. Logan is sloppily making out with you as he grinds against you. Your bodies move hurriedly, in urgent need of release. 

“Lo,” you gasp between the kisses, “need you so bad, please.” He complies, hands leaving your arms as he gets on his haunches and quickly unbuttons your pants, pulling them down. His hand moves to your pussy, thumb pressing against your clit, gauging your reaction. Your eyes widen due to the unexpected movement, and you gasp. Satisfied with your response, he rubs short, quick circles against your clit, stimulating you as he slowly pushes in one finger. You moan, hands reaching down to stop the sudden intrusion. It’s been a while since you’ve done this, so your body’s sensitivity is at an all-time high. Logan doesn’t care, swatting away your hands, slipping in another finger. He moves them in shallow thrusts, stretching you out while looking for the spot that’ll finally get you wound up enough for his liking. You bite your lip to keep yourself silent, staring at the way Lo’s fingers pump in and out of you, making a mess out of your cunt. Suddenly, his fingers press into that spot that you’re never quite able to reach yourself, making you let out a loud moan. “Lo, Lo please, right there please, don’t stop-” you break your own voice off with an even louder whimper, eyes closing due to the pleasure. Logan watches you with keen eyes trained on your face. He speeds up his fingers and thumb, enjoying your reaction thoroughly, as it ignites something deep within him. He palms himself lightly, hissing as he realizes how hard he is. “Shit, darling, you make me insane,” he mumbles, guiding one of your hands to the bulge in his jeans, making you feel him. Your mouth falls open with a little “oh,” as you feel him. You try to palm him to relieve some of his tension, but fail as his fingers pump in and out of you, driving you closer and closer to the edge. “O- oh God, Lo, I’m cumming, please please please-” you moan loudly as your orgasm crashes over you, thrashing on the mat. Logan holds down your hips, continuing his languid movements, easing you out of the feeling in waves. As you finally relax, catching your breath, you look up at him, unsure of what comes next. Usually by this point, guys tended to take their own pants off. Logan’s were still very much on. Before you could verbalize your confusion, he speaks. “I think we’ve blown enough steam off in the gym,” he chuckles. “I don’t want Charles to gim’me looks the entire month. I say we take this upstairs bub, what d’ya say?”

You stare up at him, wondering why he’s even asking, when there’s only one possible answer you could make out through the haziness of your mind. “Yes, let’s go.”

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

prompt: who did this to you? tell me now.

summary: when you end up getting hurt while out, you make it back home, but just barely.

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

characters: alastor, lucifer

warnings: talk of fighting, abuse, broken bones and getting hurt, being stabbed. essentially you’re hurt and they respond to you being hurt. blood and medical care by the characters too.

alastor

you walked into the hotel, staggering in, barely able to keep yourself up. every breath your feeble body tried to drag in aggravated another part of your body, causing even slight breaths to feel like you were being punched again.

you grimaced as you found stability against the wall next to door, leaning against it, your head hitting the wall. you micro-adjusted yourself trying to find a spot where you could breathe, knowing if you didn’t you would pass out. you couldn't find that spot, and were near tears. you couldn’t breathe, everything hurt, your eye was swollen shut, and you didn’t know what else to do. you had to get to your room but the thought of walking up those stairs and then down the hallway to your room seemed more of a torture session then you just got through.

that’s when you heard the soft pattering of feet and you looked up to see wide eyes.

red eyes bore into yours as the momentary shock of seeing alastor stopped your brain from thinking about the mind numbing pain you were experiencing. you watched him tighten his grip on his cane as he slowly made his way over to you, like you were a wounded animal.

“can you walk?” he asked, sizing up your figure and waving the cane away.

“i’m not… sure. i… got here… okay…. but my rooms… far.” you muttered out, long pauses between words to catch your breath. he nods, a dark shadow passing over his face along with apprehension, before he shakes his head and approaches you holding out his hands.

“may i carry you?” he asks.

“what?” your shock at his question causing you to not fully register what he said.

“will you allow me to carry you up to the rooms. i’ll help you with whatever injuries you have there.” he says slow and careful.

“i don’t know if… you can carry… me.” you murmur. he smiles a bit more now.

“i’m stronger than i look.” he replies back easily. you wave your free hand at him, giving him consent to go ahead. he gently places his arm under your knees and in a swift movement your in his arms, your body searing as your injuries are jostled.

“fuck.” you moan out trying to breath. alastor stays still and waits until you’re breathing somewhat regularly. he then starts taking you up the stairs, heading the opposite direction from your room.

“my room…” you say pointing behind him.

“i know. we’re going to my room. i have more first aid supplies then what charlie put in the rooms.” he replies easily, not breaking a sweat or even seeming out of breath. his door opens and he gently places you down on a chair near the opening to the forest. you try and find your breath again as alastor quietly darts off and comes back with a box of medical supplies.

he’s quiet as he examines you and asks permission to take off your shirt. he quickly assesses the damage to your ribs, your ankle and your face. checking your hands as well and glaring at the wounds on your knuckles. he starts with your ribs first, setting them and then wrapping them, forcing your posture straight. had you not been just trying to stay awake, you would have blushed at how gently his hands trailed your sides, piecing you back together. next he hands you a cold pack for your eye. you hold it up as he wraps your hand in gauze and ointment. you switch hands as he treats the other one.

“i don’t think your ankle is broken.” he says, “but at the least it’s sprained horribly.” he pulls out a stabilizer and gauze. “this will hurt.” you nod.

“do you worse.” you mutter, finally able to take deeper but still shallow breaths. he turns your foot to face up and your eyes widen as you scream.

“it’s okay. you’re okay.” he says, his eyes wide and worried.

“it hurts al. it hurts.” you cry, tears running down your face.

“i know. but let me finish up. it will feel better.” he assured you as he reaches up and wipes your tears away.

“go ahead.” you whisper. he quickly puts the stabilizer against your leg and then wraps it with gauze. tears running down your cheeks as you keep still and silent.

“it’s done.” he says leaning back as you sit in the chair feeling exhausted.

“thank you… alastor.” you voice no louder than a whisper but you know he hears you as he nods. he packs everything up and then moves you to the bed that magically appears in the room.

“i have a room al.” you say, sitting against the pillows.

“i know you do, but you can’t do anything in this condition. so you’ll stay here until i deem it okay for you to leave.” his tone leaving no room for argument and you nod. “now, who did this to you?”

your eyes widen as your head snaps up at him. gone was the man you saw before, replaced with what you knew as the radio demon. the shift happened almost instantaneously. “it was nothing alastor. i just… fucked up.” you say looking off to the side.

“i don’t take well with lying dear.” he says, his hand hovering over your ankle as a warning. you look at him disbelieving and he just tilts his head. almost as if he’s saying ‘try me’. you sigh.

“it was an ex of mine. he worked for vox and i left him before i came here. he was abusive and i had enough. but he found me and he knew i was at the hotel. said i couldn’t get away from him, and that we were meant to be. and when i tried to get away…” you motioned to yourself. you hoped your words came across as truthful and sincere. you internally sighed in relief as alastor nodded, and sent his shadow off. moments later husk appeared and alastor murmured something to him. you saw husk’s eyes widen as he looked at you and then alastor.

“i’ll take care of it.” husk said, his gaze steely as he left.

“relax my dear. you’re safe now and we’ll help you recover.” alastor said, as you moved to lay down, him taking up an arm chair by the bed and procuring a book from thin air. you closed your eyes as guilt consumed you. you had told alastor the truth but not the full truth.

you didn’t tell him that your ex mentioned that him “giving to you what was coming” was from vox and was to be a message to the radio demon. you knew that alastor would withdraw after that and that would hurt you more than any other physical pain anyone could put you through.

lucifer

you quickly shut the door to the house, leaning against it and taking a breath. you looked down to your abdomen and got a bit woozy seeing the blood spread across your white shirt.

“damn it.” you mutter, feeling a bit foggy from the blood loss. you shake your head trying to clear it. you knew that lucifer was home and you could only hold onto the hope that he didn't hear you come in. you were getting ready to make your way to the bathroom when lucifer popped in front of you.

“honey! you’re home!” he says, looking mostly at the papers in his hand as you straightened up much to the protest of your body, trying to seem like you had not been stabbed maybe 15 minutes ago.

“i- yup!” you responded, your voice tight as you tried to cover your wound with your hand. you moved your jacket over it so that it couldn’t be seen either. lucifer looked up at you as his eye squinted at you. 

“are you all right?” he asks, coming closer to you, his focus on those papers in his hand all but forgotten. 

“i-i’m fine, luce.” you smile, it not reaching your eyes though. you clear your throat, looking off the left, trying to figure out a way to stop him from really observing you. “i know you said you wanted to show me those new plans for the hotel, let’s go check them out!” you say, changing the subject. hoping that worked. you didn’t want to worry him, nor tell him why you were hurt.

“okay…” he says drawing out the word and then motioning for you to follow him. you start walking behind him, every footstep jostling you and causing your wound to bleed even more, when you reached the three stairs to his study. he crossed them easily but you stepped up on the one and gasped, feeling searing pain in your side. your hand coming out to hold the wall so you didn’t fall. your breath rushing in and out of you like you had ran a race, as your head swam, your body loosing more blood. you see the red substance drip from your hand and watch it fall to the floor, blending into the red carpet. you look up and see lucifer standing there, his eyes wide. 

“what the fuck happened?” he cries, going to you and lifting you up, your hand falling from your wound and your jacket falling back, showing the slice through your shirt. he quickly makes a portal and gets you to your shared room. he gently lays you down on the bed, and dashes off to get some gauze. you try to get off the bed not wanting to ruin the sheets. he comes back to you flailing, trying to get up and pushes you back down, looking at you like you had completely lost it.

“the sheets…” you murmur, coughing and wiping your hand away seeing blood. “oh no.” you whisper and his eyes widen. he throws the gauze away and places his hands on your stomach.

“why didn't you tell me immediately?" he cries, shaking his head looking distraught. "i’m going to heal you, just... stay still.” he says closing his eyes. you grab his hand with the strength you had, though you felt all the strength in your body seemingly being siphoned just by laying on the bed. he looks at you, his eyes wide.

“it hurts you.” you say. 

“don’t care.” he says, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. before you can argue again, his hands glow gold and you body starts stitching itself up, cell by cell, inch by inch. you can feel it all. you cry out as lucifer healing you seems to go on forever. the few minutes it takes seems like hours, as your mind swims through a sea of pain and exhaustion. finally the golden glow subsides and lucifer drops to his knees next to you. you grab his hand as he rests his head against you. both of you trying to recover. you can barely keep your eyes open feeling them closing. you drift off to a dreamless sleep, almost like your body forcing you to rest. 

when you wake next you sit up quickly, looking around the dark room trying to find lucifer. your breath coming in short pants as you can't see anything but the darkness in the room.

“luce?” you ask, your voice hoarse and then you look next to you. lucifer was sleeping close by you. you sigh out in relief as you lay back down and brush his hair back from his eyes, kissing his forehead. “you saved me, again.” you murmur, gently resting your hand on his cheek, resting your forehead against his. his eyes open slowly.

“i’ll always be there to do so.” he smiles and sits up. 

“i’m sorry i woke you up.” you said as he turned to you, drawing you to him and situating you to straddle his lap. clutching you close.

“i was so scared.” he whispered, not like he was asleep just a moment ago.

“i’m sorry.” you respond back. your head slotting in between his shoulder and neck. he lets you rest there for a moment and then pulls you back to look at you.

“who did this to you?” he asks, his eyes steely as he cupped your face gently. you shook your head not wanting to say. “darling, who did this?” he asked, the tone of his voice sharper and more impatient.

“i-“ tears start running down your face. “you’re going to be so upset… and i don’t want you to be. i don’t want.. you to pull away from me again. it’ll make you do that and i can’t bare that lucifer. i just-“ you start talking quickly, your breaths coming quick as you hold on to his shoulders, looking into his eyes even as tears pour from yours. lucifer’s eyes widen and his eyes are misty seeing how upset you are. 

“i won’t. i promise you. i won't pull away, regardless of what you tell me. but i need to know who did this to you. tell me. now.” lucifer says, his voice firm. 

“i-they were masked. they looked like sharks?” you phrased the last statement as a question. “they cornered me in an alley and said that i needed to take a message to lucifer. that they knew how to get to you, and they could use me to do that and you needed to give them what they asked for.” you said as you recounted the tale with your eyes closed. you opened them when you felt lucifer’s claws digging into your hips. you saw his eyes had turned red and his horns were fully out. 

“and they stabbed you?” he ground out. you nodded. "that was their message?" you nodded again.

"that if you didn't do what they asked, they would hurt me." you explain, realizing near the end of the explanation that it probably wasn't needed. his eyes darkened as you spoke, and he moved you gently onto your side of the bed. he took a deep breath as he got up. he gently petted your hair and helped you lay down, his horns no longer out, but his eyes bright red.

“where are you going?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

“out. i’ll be back all right. stay here and go to sleep, you need it. i’ll be right back.” he says, a steely resolve in his eyes, and a gentle smile on his face. you nodded as your eyes felt heavy and fell asleep before lucifer even reached the door to leave. he straightened his jacket and walked down the hall. he had important work to take care of as he created a portal and stepped through it.

[dollescentbaby]

CW; breeding k!nk, slight choking k!nk, very rough and dark!abby. That’s all I can really think of, have fun!

Authors note:

Dni if ageless, under 18 or a man!!

Thank you for reading this, this is my first ever time writing a fic, if I need to do anything to improve please let me know! This is the raw unedited version and I hope you enjoy

Love yall!

You have never been so bored, so horny. Abby was at the gym and you had nothing to do except lay on the bed and wait around. You groan and you grumble when an idea pops into your mind. Sure, it’s dumb and possibly dangerous. You decide to give Abby a call. Calls are only reserved for emergencies but you being this horny should count as one. The phone rings and you are met with no answer. You try again about 4 more times before she answers. “Is it an emergency?!” She sounds panicked. “I’m horny and I need you.” You respond back. She’s furious. “Really? Are you serious? Fuckin’ wait until I’m home” she hangs up the phone and you got the answer you expect, but not the one you wanted. You wanted her to speed home and fuck you the moment she walks in the door. You begin to grow impatient and start to touch yourself, you pick up your phone and take a picture, sending it to Abby. You know it will drive her mad and it will get you in trouble, but maybe that’s the fun of it. You don’t receive a message back, she only leaves you on read. It’s what you would expect from her but still, you wish you could see her face when she received the picture. About 10 minutes later you hear the door slam and a heavy bang of her gym bag on the floor. The sound of footsteps filling your ears along with the fast thump of your heart. You know you’re in deep shit. The door slams open and you feel hands wrap around your ankles and pull you towards the end of the bed. The blonde girl sits down next to you on the edge of the bed and then props you over her knee. You know what’s about to happen. And you know it’s going to hurt and there will be no mercy. “Fucking whore. You couldn’t wait hm? You wanted to get punished didn’t you? So fucking stupid.” She strikes your ass open palmed with a thwack. “Answer me you little shit. You wanted this?” Your mind races, barely able to form coherent thoughts. “Y-yes” you finally mumble out before another blow meets your round, and now red ass. She grabs you by your hair and throws you onto the bed, your ass up in the air, facing her. She places her cold hand against your spine and pushes down, making you arch. Without warning she licks a fat stripe from your clit all the way to your hole. She slurps up all your juices mercilessly. She kneads your ass and smacks it once more before grabbing you by your neck and pulling your back to her chest, you let out a small whimper and a yelp. “You gonna be a good girl and listen to me? Huh, princess?” Her hot breath tickling your ear and your neck. She pushes you with full force back against the bed before she stands back up. You already know what she’s going to grab, you don’t have to see to know what’s going on. You hear her rummage through the closet before pulling out a black box. She pulls out a breeding strap and buckles it to her hips. She sits back on the bed and without warning she slams deep into you, immediately hitting your cervix. You let out a loud yelp and your back arches upward. It hurts, the immediate impact to your insides. She doesn’t care, she keeps going and continues to pound fastly into you. “God, so fucking tight. Look how this pussy just swallows and begs for my cock.” She whispers in between thrusts. You can feel her hips start to falter and her breaths get quicker, you know she is about to cum, and so are you. You’re quick to get to the edge just before she runs her finger over your clit, rubbing tight circles. It makes you cum instantly, you let out a loud moan of pleasure, “good fucking girl, just wait, I need to cum..” she’s overstimulating you, chasing her own release, and just as she cums, you feel a warm fluid filling your insides, you can feel it drip down your thighs, she pulls out in awe, seeing the cum drip out of your wet and puffy pussy. She is quick to take off the strap and grab you water. “Here, drink” she passes you the water and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before kissing your forehead. “Was I too rough? Are you ok? I’m sor-“ you cut her off with a kiss to shut her up “it was perfect my girl, I love you”

[fourmoony]

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝟐

f!reader x PT!Jamie (modern au) 1.5k words

summary: reader has a bad gym experience and jamie gets protective

cw: working out, mention of potential injury, mentions of sexual harrassment (ass grabbing)

sidenote, that I've seen a lot of this behaviour in the gym before and it makes me sick. writing about it and imagining how jamie would handle it makes me less sick. imagining big strong pt!james making the world better, one set of keys at a time. please, always be aware of your surroundings if you are working out at the gym, especially alone <3

James pulls you out from under the bar of the smith machine by the hips seconds before it clatters to the ground with a sickening thud and clang of metal. You stumble under his harsh hands, land on the ground at his feet and let out a pained whoosh of breath. Luckily, the gym is empty save for the two of you, sparing you the embarrassment of having people watch the commotion.

He's on you in an instant, gentle hands that cradle your neck as he crouches in front of you and pushes your head from side to side with a little pressure from his thumbs. All you can do is blink, try to process what, exactly, just happened. "You're not sore here?" James asks you, brows furrowed and almost touching in the middle, his fingers pressing into the base of your neck.

Your first thought is that James doesn't suit frowning. A silly thought, considering you almost decapitated yourself with a one hundred kilogram squat rack. "No. Just my ass from crash landing." You don't fail to notice the way your voice sounds distant, detached.

James' hands are warm on your neck, a burning touch that you want to lean into. You don't, and it's gone as James collapses down across from you, his elbows resting against his knees. His face turns stern, "What's going on?"

You feel like you're being scolded, and maybe you should be. It's a well known fact that form is everything, that being distracted in the gym can lead to serious injuries. You'd known you wouldn't be able to focus today, you'd known you should've stopped that set and corrected yourself when you could feel the weight more in your back than your legs. But, you hadn't. You're distracted, you're angry. You'd walked into the gym full of frustration and it'd almost ended terribly.

Tears fight their way to your eyes and they burn. You feel a lump forming in your throat that forces you to look away from James. Kind, patient James, who allows you the moment to collect yourself as you pull your legs to your chest. "Shitty week." It comes out mumbled, your voice defeated.

James nods understandingly. "A shitty week doesn't make you lose focus like that, though. There's something more to it."

It's not like James to push. He's friendly and he's kind, he can be a menace when he wants to be, and sometimes you even think he's flirting with you - but he never pushes. You want to open up, you want to step out of that weird area of professionalism you can never seem to get past with him. But unloading your shitty week on him doesn't feel like the way to do that. So you shrug, pulling your knees to your chest until your chin rests atop them, "I'm just stressed. I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I knew my form was wrong but I was too distracted to stop and fix it."

"I don't care that your form was wrong," James shakes his head as though offended you'd think such a thing, "I mean," He pauses, searching for the words, "Obviously, I care that it was wrong because you almost got hurt. But what I mean is that you should've told me you were stressed, that you were feeling a bit distracted."

You find yourself nodding, eyes downcast at your crossed ankles.

"I was waiting for you to correct the form yourself. If I knew you were distracted, I'd have told you to stop. I'm sorry, too." James' voice has turned soft, less stern. He nudges his foot until it's in your line of vision, tapping it against yours until you're looking up.

He's waiting with a smile, his eyes gentle and patient. It feels odd. New, foreign. You can't really describe the feeling. "A guy grabbed my ass in the gym, yesterday." You breathe out, unsure really of what it is that's made you tell him.

It could be that you trust him. It's hard not to build trust with someone in James' position, it's literally his job to stop things like one hundred kilogram bar bells falling on top of you. Or, it could be that not telling anyone, reliving how powerless you'd felt, going over everything you could've done differently, it's eating you alive. Sharing this with James, who sees every day what gyms are like, how people in some gyms behave, you have a feeling that he'll get it. That he'll help you process.

But, he doesn't say anything. Just stares with a look that you can't read. The muscles in his arms shift, his hands clenching around each other tightly, and his jaw clenches. You think he might not say anything, though, you know James is better than that. The silence stretches until the tears in your eyes abate, then James finally croaks, "He what?"

Your veins crackle with the anger in his voice, the darkness that clouds his eyes. You'd never have imagined James in such a light if he wasn't sitting right in front of you, the very picture of livid. You shrug, as though feigning nonchalance might abate the white hot anger you know very well the feeling of. "I was doing those stupid kick back thingies you're always on about. Just messing about as a cool down, trying to correct my own form. He came over and started giving me advice, which I thought was just him being nice."

James shakes his head, remorse like a white sheet of dread across his beautiful face. You swallow, picking at a hangnail on your thumb, "He kind of just," You shift your hands as though grabbing your own hips, "Grabbed me like that and my throat went dry. When he was leaving he grabbed my ass and said 'you're welcome'."

"You didn't report him to the gym staff?"

You shake your head, lip trapped between your teeth. "I wasn't even planning on telling you until I nearly killed myself with the smith machine."

James sighs, one of his hands coming up to rub at his face. He looks nauseous, almost. "I'll get you a set of keys for this gym. You can work out here, from now on. No one will bother you."

It's a nice offer. It makes your heart swell and your cheeks heat. James has always gone above and beyond. He fits you into his schedule despite your crazy work hours and never charges you for the session if you have to cancel day of. But the reason you don't have a membership at his gym is because it's not in your price range. So you smile, kind, if a little tight lipped, "James, you know I can't."

"I'm not saying get a membership. I'm saying I'll get you a set of keys. You can come and go as you please, even after work, whatever time you want." His voice is thick, his eyes earnest and almost pleading.

"I can't ask you to do that."

James scoots closer, fingers flexing as though he might reach out for you, but is stopping himself. He chases your gaze, waits until he has it, until your lips part under the weight of it and your heart hammers against your chest, to speak. "You're not asking. I'm offering. I can't believe that happened to you and it makes me so angry. I'm not going to sit by and do nothing about it."

You sigh, unwilling to argue when James sounds so passionate, so sure of himself. A smile makes its way to your lips, timid, unsure, "Thanks, Jamie."

He nods. "Any time."

"Are you sure the owner won't mind?" You ask.

James grins, some of the mischievous twinkle returning to his eyes, "He's my best mate, it'll be fine."

He offers you a hand as he stands, the storm clouds passing and the weight already lifting from your chest. It feels brighter, in the gym. You take James' hand, let him pull you up. He does his signature move of tugging you until you're stumbling towards him, his laugh echoing off of the concrete walls when you curse him out for it.

"Start from the beginning?" James asks, moving to return the smith machine to where you need it to be.

You take a breath, watch the way his shoulder muscles strain against his top as he bends and lifts. It brings a smile to your lips, the feeling of familiarity you hadn't felt upon entering the gym earlier. "I believe I was at five reps when I dropped the bar."

James tsks, "Dropping it doesn't count as a rep. Call it four."

"Cruel."

James only winks, offers you his award winning smile as you settle yourself under the bar. This time, with the correct form. He nods, and you twist to unlock, eyes on his in the mirror.

"That's one." He grins, crossing his arms over his chest.

You consider dropping the bar on his head, next.

[cintiri]

Thinking about my big brother ghost Yuan au again, specifically the relationship between Shen Yuan and Yue Qi, because you know there's no way Shen Jiu doesn't tell his Qi-Ge about his tag along.

At first, Yue Qi was probably somehow MORE suspicious of Shen Yuan than Shen Jiu was, because who's this freeloader in his Xiao Jiu's head!!! What does he want with poor Xiao Jiu? You can't have him, evil ghost!!!

Eventually, he and Shen Jiu get used to Shen Yuan though, and Yue Qi starts to actually really appreciate Shen Yuan's presence. There have been multiple times where Shen Yuan has convinced Shen Jiu to seek out Yue Qi for help with things he otherwise would have hidden, and clearly SY is keeping SJ safe with his interference, as SJ has been getting caught less, getting hurt less, and getting into less fights than usual.

What really ends up solidifying the bond between Yue Qi and Shen Yuan, though, is when their Si-Jie was sold. Wu-ge had died the winter before, and Liu-Jie had run away, so after Si-Jie, Yue Qi was the oldest, and therefore it was his job to protect the younger slaves like Wu-Jie had. Xiao Jiu was inconsolable, having retreated into his mind and leaving Shen Yuan most of the control, and Yue Qi didn't have time to mourn or anyone to hide behind.

He was only ten years old.

Yue Qi was limping back to the building and surrounding alleyways the slave masters had claimed as their own, carrying the Bao he had run on his twisted ankle to get for the other slave children. They needed to eat in order to stay healthy, to stay healthy in order to survive.

It was getting dark, but if he hurried now he would be able to slip out and go beg in the red light district. He knew some ladies who had taken a liking to Xiao Jiu and himself, they wouldn't chase him away, and then he could make up the money from Shiba missing today because of her sickness, and from Shiwu who was too busy mourning Si-Jie, and-

"Xiao Qi?" It was the familiar too-soft version of his Xiao Jiu's voice. Shen Yuan, then. He paused, turning towards him. "Yes?"

"You've been gone since before morning, Xiao Qi. And what happened to your leg?"

"it's alright, Shen-Xiangsheng. I've just been getting food for the others, and I'm going to go to the red light district-" he heard Shen Yuan tisk, before stepping forwards and putting a hand on Yue Qi's shoulder.

"Not on that leg you aren't. Come sit down, I'll bring the Bao to the others and help you with that leg."

Yue Qi felt his face scrunch up, his brow furrowing as he looked down at the man in the body of his closest friend. "If I don't, then Shiba and Shiwu are going to get beaten! And maybe even you too! And then Shiba won't recover from her sickness!" Yue Qi shouted, balling up his fists.

"Is that what you really want? To ruin the lives of some slave children while acting nice? Cause if that's true, you're a really pathetic ghost!"

Yue Qi froze. He just yelled at an adult. Sure, maybe that adult was in Xiao Jiu's body, and so he was little, but Xiao Jiu could be really strong when he wanted to, and Xiao Jiu had been so sad when Si-Jie went away, would he even notice that his tag along was beating up his Qi-Ge? Or maybe even if he did he wouldn't intervene, because Yue Qi was an awful little brat who raised his voice and barked like a dog at someone who was better than him, and-

And Shen Yuan's face didn't twist in anger like the slavers or the men in the markets might have. Instead, his face was filled with pity. No, not pity. Sympathy.

Maybe Shen Yuan was an adult, but he was also a ghost. A ghost that was stuck in the body of a little street kid like Yue Qi. So maybe he wouldn't beat him. Maybe Shen Yuan would just be sad for him, because he knew how bad it was out here, and maybe he wouldn't make it worse. Maybe he would just leave Yue Qi alone.

So caught up in his thoughts, Yue Qi didn't notice Shen Yuan had moved until he felt the warm arms around him. He froze.

Shen Yuan's hugs didn't feel like Si-Jie's. They weren't as warm and gentle, his hand didn't run over Yue Qi's back gently with shushing sounds coming from his mouth. They didn't feel like Xiao Jiu's either. Xiao Jiu was all sharp knees and elbows, chipped nails digging into his skin as if at any second Yue Qi would disappear if he didn't hold on.

Shen Yuan's hug was tight, and though he was shorter, he used a hand on the back of Yue Qi's head to tuck his face into his shoulder. The other hand rubbed gentle circles on his back, slowly pulling Yue Qi's mind back into his body.

Distantly, he heard Shen Yuan speaking. "That's right, breathe in, and out. You're doing so well, Xiao Qi. It's okay, I have you, you'll be alright."

His hands tightened into little fists in Shen Yuan's clothes and he felt himself lean against him, letting out a sudden sob he hadn't even realized had been caught in his chest. Before he knew it, he was sitting down, laying on Shen Yuan's chest and sobbing into his shoulder, holding on for dear life and shaking like a leaf in the wind. Shen Yuan was speaking, and it sounded soothing, but Yue Qi couldn't tell what he was saying through his sobs.

"Yuan-ge-" he whimpered, his voice cracking as he tried to burrow further into Shen Yuan.

"Shh, It's okay, it's okay, your Yuan-ge is here."

Yue Qi cried for a long time, until the sun had set and he had fully exhausted himself. Yuan-ge pulled him onto his back, somehow managing to carry him despite his small stature, and carried him into the alleyway where he and Xiao Jiu slept. He placed Yue Qi down, before pulling out the bricks that they hid their straw mat behind, pulling it out and laying it on the ground.

He watched as Yuan-ge placed one of the bricks at the end of the mat, before pulling Yue Qi onto it and pushing his sprained ankle up, placing the foot onto the brick.

"Keep your foot elevated, like this, okay? I'm going to go to the red light district. I'll get the money that Shiba and Shiwu need. You just rest, alright? He said. Yue Qi opened his mouth to protest, and suddenly found a warm Bao bun pushed into his mouth. At the taste, he couldn't help but grab it and begin to chew, but as he ate, he looked up and complained, "These were supposed to be for the others!"

Yuan-Ge sighed. "You're a growing boy, eat it. I'll get another Bao to make up for this one, okay?" Yue Qi could only glumly nod, and continue eating his bun.

Soon after Shen Yuan left, he felt himself slip into sleep, exhausted.

-

"Qi-ge, Qi-ge wake up!" He heard a familiar voice whisper shout in his ear. "Xiao Jiu?" He murmured, still hazy with sleep.

"Yuan got us some stuff, but he told me I should be the one out here to give it to you. Here." He blinked, as half a stick of tanghulu was shoved in his face. Squinting in the dark, he could make out a few bits of crystalized sugar stuck to Xiao Jiu's cheeks.

"Hmmmkay." He murmured, taking the stick and going to have a bite, when he felt a sudden rush of cold on his ankle. He yelped in surprise, but strangely, his ankle felt much better. Looking down, he saw Xiao Jiu using cloth scraps with a strange blueish paste on them to bind his ankle.

"Wha-"

"Yuan says it's called the winter's night lily of ice pack. Or something"

"Everwinters night lily! It's just basically an ice pack." Chimed Shen Yuan, making little sense as usual, before he faded away once more."

"Okay, that. The colds sposed' to help with your leg. Somehow. And also keep it elevated or something."

"It does feel better than it did before." Yue Qi agrees.

"Good. Keep it that way. Oh, also Yuan made a deal with some courtesans. Made a whole bunch of posters for some brothel called the Autumns Iris. They gave us some coins, so he said not to worry. Oh, and he got the Bao."

Yue Qi let out a long breath, as Xiao Jiu climbed onto the mat, flopping halfway on top of Yue Qi and accidentally elbowing him in the ribs. "I'm going to sleep now." He said, before curling up like a hissy cat.

Yue Qi stayed awake for a while longer. Yuan-ge did it. He did exactly what Yue Qi needed, maybe even better than Yue Qi could have. He didn't get mad when Yue Qi yelled at him. He helped him fix his ankle, even though it really wasn't that bad.

He cared. He wanted to protect him. And he was older, and smarter, and stronger than any of the other slaves had ever been.

Maybe, even though Si-Jie was gone, with Yuan-ge here, he and Xiao Jiu would be okay.

[outsideratheart]

By Your Side, Always (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: We’re supercampeones!!! I’m not sure what this is but I hope you like it.

The first 45 minutes of the game you were having fun, the whole team was. Levante knew that Barcelona would make them work but tonight you and the team were putting on a world class performance. They were never a team to give up but with 7 goals scored and them not being able to find the net, they struggled to find hope and accepted their defeat. They were now fighting to keep the score at 7 and it started to get messy. 

It was clear that you had been made a target by Levante’s entire back line. You didn’t care though, you could take it. If anything you welcomed the physically because it meant you were allowed to give them a taste of their own medicine every so often. 

Alexia wished she could be on the pitch with you but she must admit it was fun being in the stand watching you play the way you were. 

“She’s showing off” Mapi said to no one in particular as she watched you dance around their left back even looking back and smirking to her once you sent the ball into the box. 

“She’s unstoppable when she’s like this” your girlfriend says. 

She regretted her choice of words not even a minute later. There were two defenders between you and the goal. You were determined to make it 8. That is until you get taken out by not one but two players. You felt one set of studs go into the outside of the ankle and another set on the inside. You truly had never felt pain like it. 

Alexia heard your outcry of pain and could do nothing but watch as you laid on the floor clutching your ankle. 

“I need you to get up. I need to go to her” Alexia stood to her feet, desperate to be by your side. 

“You can’t go onto the pitch” Mapi slowly got up, careful not to knock her knee. 

Her warning fell on deaf ears and Alexia was already rushing towards the pitch. As expected she was stopped by Jona but she stayed near the sidelines waiting for you. 

“Please get up” Alexia whispers to herself. She began to fear the worst when she sees the physio signal for a stretcher. 

“We both know she’s too stubborn to use it Alexia. Give her a few minutes and she’ll be up” Jona pats his captain’s shoulder in support. 

The coach was right. It took a little longer than Alexia would have like but you are up on your feet. It’s obvious that the injury is bad because you are using the teams physios as crutches so you don’t put any weight on your ankle. 

What is the ultimate telling sign is the way you refuse to meet Alexia’s gaze when you get to the sidelines. Nevertheless she follows you into the tunnel and waits by the door of the medical room. 

“Come with me, please” you have your back towards Alexia but she can hear the pain in your tone. 

“I’m here” 

Alexia sits on a chair beside you as the physio begins examining your ankle. At the first touch you wince and move your foot away which only makes it hurt more. He gives you a couple of minutes to compose yourself but asks to try again. Your arms hide your face as the pain becomes excruciating. The only thing stopping you from breaking completely is the soothing way Alexia is stroking her hand over your thigh. 

“They’re almost done. Try and breathe for me ok?” 

And try you did but you also failed. It was a form of panic and you knew it. 

The physios explain that they think it’s major ligament damage and that they will take you for scans once you’re back in Barcelona.  

“I’m going to give you some space. Alexia, make sure she ices it and try to get her to stay still. Give it ten minutes then she can put the boot on and use the crutches. No weight on it, understand?” 

“They studded my ankle, not my ears. Don’t speak about me as if I’m not here” you sit up quickly. At least now you understood why you needed to keep still. 

Alexia got up as the physio left. She places ice on your ankle as gently as she could before she turned out the lights. She knew that when you were overwhelmed the darkness help calm whatever you were feeling inside. 

“Whatever it is, i’ve got you. I know how you think and how you’re going to want to do this alone but that won’t happen. I won’t let it”

Alexia moves the chair so that it was closer to your head. She places a gentle kiss on the crown on your head. 

“I don’t want to talk about it” 

You turn your head away from her. That hurt Alexia but she knew it was your coping mechanism and once you’ve processed what’s happened you will be more open to talk.

Alexia had just opened her mouth when she heard a door slam and a lot of foul language. 

“That’s Lucy and if she’s in here for the reason I think then I’m going to kill her” 

Your girlfriend rolled her eyes. You weren’t in the mood for this and deep down she knew the reason why the English defender was now in lockeroom even though there is 10 minutes left, maybe less. 

“Y/N I’m coming in” technically it wasn’t a question but still she could have waited for a response. 

“Get out” you growl. 

“Oh did I interrupt something” Lucy gives you both a playful look. 

“You’re a fucking idiot Luce. I know for a fact you didn’t get subbed off because that wasn’t part of the plan so that only leaves one reason” 

“Y/N calm down” alexia begs.  

“I was defending you. They took you out. I wasn’t going to let them get away with it” Lucy met your anger and walked towards you. That was a mistake. 

“Get out!” You stand up and your own weight collapses underneath you. 

“Lucy, please” Alexia begs your England team mate who raises her hands in defeat and leaves you be. 

She then helps you back on the bed. A couple of minutes pass and you hear the final whistle following by the cheers of your team. 

“I’m not going back out. Torre can lift the trophy” 

“Y/N. You’re their captain and you scored a hattrick. It should be you up there” 

“Well I’m not going to be and you can go tell them. Go Alexia” 

She saw the look in your eyes. The look, which in the past, told her that your mind was made up and there was nothing she could do to change it. 

“Just come out when you’re ready. We don’t let moments pass by without celebrating them. You told me that” before leaving Alexia made sure she turned on the TV so that you could at least watch the trophy ceremony. 

You didn’t like what you just did but you did it anyway. Alexia has had a tough few weeks and she need this, she needed it more than you needed her. 

As instructed Marta lifts the trophy and you feel fine about it. Barcelona has a group of leaders but it just so happens that only one can wear the armband. 

The silence wasn’t comfortable and it started to put you on edge. You saw the boots and crutches by the examination table taunting you.  

Don’t let the moment pass by. 

Alexia watches Marta lift the trophy and then celebrated with the team like they do after every trophy win. She hoped you might have come out by now. 

She is near the centre circle when she hears the crowd errupt. She may have her back to the tunnel but she knows it’s you. 

“I thought you said she wasn’t coming out” Jana asks. 

“No. I said she wasn’t lifting the trophy” Alexia knew you would come out. Due to your slow pace, no thanks to the crutches, Alexia met you half way. 

You let the crutches drop to the floor as you wrap your arms around her neck. 

“I’m sorry for pushing you away. I just —“

“Needed a minute. I know. You’re here now and that’s all that matters” she lets you rest against her as your hands you the crutches. 

“Have you been crying mi amor?” She noticed the tear staines on your cheeks. 

You nod slightly and she can see that something is going on in your head because your eyes begin to well up. Alexia cups your cheek and gently wipes away the stray tear that has fallen. 

“You don’t have to wait until I’m not there to cry Y/N”

“I know” 

Side by side you walk towards your team mates who are all ready to greet you. Bruna is the first one too you, of course she is. 

“Here” she hands you the game ball “I got everyone to sign it for you” 

“Thanks B. You know I’ve got so many of these I’ve lost count. Why don’t you go give it to a fan?” The young forward takes the ball back happily and runs towards a little girl. She makes her turn around so that you can see the fan is wearing you shirt. You send her a little wave and it makes her day. 

“I don’t want to be injured” you stick your bottom lip out causing you girlfriend to chuckle slightly. 

“We’re professional football players, we never want to be injured but sometimes it happens. There’s nothing we can do about it” Alexia was full of wisdom. 

She definetly didn’t feel this way when she got hurt but you decide not reopen old wounds. 

“And these things are stupid” you wave one of your crutches around. 

“Are you going to be complaining everyday until you’re back on the pitch?” 

“Yes Alexia, I am. If you don’t like it then tough because you’re stuck with me” 

“I’m ok with that and I’m ready to return the favour because we both know I wasn’t exactly a ray of sunshine when I got injured” 

“You can say that again. I almost sent you back home to your mothers” you were teasing her and she knew it. You didn’t like being more that 5 feet away from Alexia when she was hurt. 

“We both know if I went back to my mama’s that you would be right behind me” 

You could only nod in agreement. Alexia suggests you do what will be half a lap of the pitch so you can thank you fans. It’s a slow amble but she doesn’t seem to mind. The rest of the team had walked ahead so now it was just you, Alexia, Mapi and Ingrid. 

“Does this mean we can do our physio together?” Mapi asks you. 

“No” Alexia and Ingrid say in unison. 

“Why not? We will push each other to get better” 

“And that’s the reason why. You’re too competive, you will make it into a game and we” she points to herself and Alexia “know that it’ll end badly”. 

When you are back at the hotel you are dragged into the celebrations and for the most part you don’t mind it. After a little while you realise that Alexia isn’t around and that is something you do mind. You feel yourself getting more anxious without having her calming presence beside you. 

Then you hear your phone go off. 

Come to you room. Your rehab starts now. 

When you enter your room, Alexia is standing outside the bathroom. 

“I’m going to need you to remove your clothes” Alexia says and your eyes widen. 

“Ok” you pull your shirt off in record time, the shorts however were more of a task. 

“Let me” once the injured leg was free alexia places your crutches aside “rest on me” she tells you. 

She looks up grinning like a devil which makes you shake your head. She always did have half a mind in the gutter when it came to you. 

“Maybe later” she pecks your lips and doesn’t expect for you to pull her back in for something more passionate. 

“Sure, Putellas”

She pretends to act offended at the use of her surname. Alexia then uses her strength to lift you backwards and onto the bed, something she could have done earlier. 

“I’m going to take your boot off. It might hurt” she was so gentle in the way you undid the Velcro straps. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry” she says when she hears you wince. 

“I’m ok” you reassure her even though you were far from it. 

What happens next came as a shock but a good one. Alexia lifts you up and carries you bridal style towards the bathroom where you are met with a bubble filled bath. 

“You did this for me?” 

“Yes. Although I’m going to be joining you so I guess it’s also for me” 

“Are you now?” You tease. 

Alexia nods her head in excitement with a huge smile plastered on her face. 

Your girlfriend helps you in and then lowers herself behind you. With one hand on your thigh and the other one on your abdomen, you allow yourself to relax. As you tilt your head back to rest against Alexia it gives her full access to your exposed neck and she takes advantage of the opportunity. She knows things can’t get too heated so she settles with peppering kisses on your sensitive spots. 

The two of you stay in the bath until the water becomes cold and your hands like like prunes. 

“You’re strong Y/N, you’ll be ok” Alexia says as she lays in bed with you. You have a movie on and somehow Alexia has gotten some popcorn. 

“I’ll be alright” 

It wasn’t how you expected the night to end. You thought you would be celebrating with your team, jumping for joy and taking advantage of the free champagne. Instead you are in bed, with you leg elevated and ice compressing the injured area. The this one commonality in the current and what come have been; you have Alexia by your side. 

[erwinsvow]

the frustration shy reader must feel bc she’s freaky… no doubt about it, but rafe is like she’s too precious and innocent for that

no srsly.. he thinks shes so fragile because she took some time to adjust to being intimate w him but its like no she was just a shy virgin and rafe is so overwhelming but like when she gets comfortable... its a whole diff story !

"c'mon, kid, hasn't even been an hour," rafe groans, while you crawl into his lap again. you sit right on his dick, moving the way that you know will get you dicked down within the next ten minutes. or at least you thought it would.

rafe's huge hands come to your hips, lifting you up and off, tumbling onto the bedspace next to him.

"m'not a dildo, kid. give it a rest, it's fuckin' tired."

"i bet i can wake it up," you giggle, hand snaking back onto rafe's chest and trailing down. he grabs your wrist.

"what the fuck. are-are you not satisifed. is that what this is?"

"i never said that," you say with a sincere shake of your head and one of your concerned looks. "oh, am i not supposed to want it more? is that bad?"

rafe's not sure what he's gonna do with you.

"no, baby, it's not bad. it's healthy." you look relieved, chest heaving slower while you sink into your side of the bed.

he thinks that's the end of the conversation, but it comes up again a few days later, when he picks you up and takes you out for icecream on the pier. you lick your cone, watching the sunset while rafe stares at you, when ropes from someone's boat catches your eye.

"that rope looks strong," you comment, with another swipe of your tongue. rafe's about to start a lecture on boats when you cut him off, piping in again. "i bet if you tied me up with that i couldn't even move. it would probably leave scars. right?" you glance up from the rope to look at your boyfriend.

"huh?"

"the rope. if you tied it around my wrists and ankles. it would probably leave a mark. and hurt. you think we can take that rope or should we buy our own?"

he stares at you, not sure if you're joking.

"no, no one's tying you up with rope. what the fuck?"

"ugh. rafe?"

"yeah? kid?"

"you want some?" you offer, handing him the ice cream cone.

the next time he's heard enough. he's driving through the woods, a creepy backroad that led him to barry's, where he'd taken you with him since it was late at night. there's no lights, just the moon and the trees.

you stare out the window, he thinks you're tired from the day's activities.

"what're you thinkin' about, kid?"

"i bet if you let me loose in these woods you wouldn't be able to find me." he's a little confused, but sometimes you say odd shit so he goes along with it.

"yeah, that's what getting lost means."

"no, silly, not lost. if you let me run so you could chase me." you crane your neck, looking out the window at the expanse of the forest.

"to... find you?"

"duh, rafe. how else could we have sex in the woods if you don't find me. that's the whole point, you have to chase me. like a predator animal. i wonder if there's bears in these woods."

"are you jokin'?" you turn to look at him, with that same confused expression, sweet and confused.

"no? why?" he slams on the brakes, pulling over.

"get real, kid. you want me to chase you through the forest and fuck you, what, against a tree?"

"no, rafe," you start sincerely, looking concerned. "not against a tree, wouldn't that hurt? maybe on the grass. it just depends how far i get, until you find me, i guess. it looks like just trees here."

he stares at you, and then back at his hands on the wheel.

"rafe?"

"yes?"

"so are we gonna do it today, or..?"

[soxcietyy]

To Geto, from Yuta

Yuta x reader

Yuta finds a sneaky spy that had been among the group. So he decides to take care of it by sending an interesting message to where they came from.

Tw: sucking, hair pulling, recording, shaming

"Get up."

"No, please, I promise I won’t ever show my face around here again! I’ll move back to the country and you’ll never hear about me again!" You say grabbing his ankle.

You’ve been dating Yuta for a year now and it seemed like it was about to end. He had just found out that you were an enemy all along. You were under Geto, telling him everything you could about jujutsu high. You were the crummy little rat that has been lurking around all along. You didn’t mean to fall in love with him. You knew what your mission was but he had captured your heart the second you guys had met last year. Now he had finally caught on to your act and had you on the floor begging for mercy. You couldn’t lie you were scared shitless because this was Yuta here. He wasn’t just your average sorcerer.

"How long were you going to keep this up hm? Do you not feel an ounce of shame? Did you even love me?" He squats down to take a better look at your face that was drenched in tears. "Pretty sad that you were pathetic at your job." He continued. "So sad that Geto only taught you how to be a slut, how to seduce a man and spread you’r legs for them." He lets out an exhausted laugh.

"Im going to fuck you up." You say feeling all that fear turning into anger. Letting go of his leg you reach for your sword.

"No darling I’m going to fuck you in front of everyone to set an example. Because I know damn well there’s more of you guys here." He grabs your face aggressively with the smile he always wore around you. "And don’t even think this relationship is over because I already told you, You’re mine no matter what. Before we do anything why don’t we send Geto a little video no?"

Grabbing you by the hair he dragged you inside the building. Your clothes became dirty from all the dirt on the floor you were collecting. Your hands and knees turning red earning themselves cuts and scratches from the sharp rocks and terrain. You could only see the dirty floor as he pulled you along the campus. Luckily for you he decided to go into an empty building. The next room he entered was full of cameras. Every spot in the school being shown on the big screen. Even in spots you didn’t think anyone would be watching. You curse under your breath as your knees began to hurt from being on them.

He sat down on a chair and looked at your red teary eyes. Without a second thought he shoved your face into his crotch immediately. Not giving you time to adjust to your new environment. You could hear him groans as he pushed your face deeper into his groin. You could feel how his member started to grow from being aroused. Usually when you guys did this he was nice, general and caring. You knew this wasn’t going to be like that. Letting out a cry from not being able to breathe you could feel his grip on your hair tighten. Clearly not thinking of letting you off the hook. Pulling you back you finally take a breath.

Zipping his pants down he lets his hard member out just for it to smack you on the cheek.

"You look so gorgeous like this." He whispers as he rubs it up and down your face. You could see how his face was full of anger yet lust was clearly winning his emotions over. Lifting your head up he places his tip on your lips.

"Now be good and do what your best at. We’re going to show Geto what you’ve been doing while on your little spying mission." Yuta says pulling his phone out.

Your eyes widen as you duck down trying to hide behind his leg. With a rough tug he pulled you right back up with the phone on your face. He was definitely not bluffing about sending this to Geto. He pushed his dick inside your mouth until it was halfway in. Your eyes beginning to water from how big it was.

"Geto, caught your little rat sneaking around. Look at how pretty she looks on her knees, with those puffy red eyes, beautiful soft lips, and the adorable drool on the side of her mouth." Yuta shoves your head deeper into his member.

You gag and try to pull back but his firm grip was still on you. Pushing your head up and downwards until you were a mess.

"Fuck, I bet Geto taught you how to suck by giving you tips huh? Bet he loved Sucking our sensei Gojo." Yuta smirks as he fucks your mouth.

You looked like a total mess as he used you. Abusing the back of your throat to his hearts content. Shoving you balls deep into him until your nose touched his pelvis. You looked up at him begging for him to let you breathe. Tapping his leg like crazy as a signal to him that you’ve given up. You watched as he slowly started smiling at you before thrusting himself a few more times.

"Good girl, tell Geto how much you love my cock." He shoved the camera in your face once again.

You shake your head pleading with him not to do this.

"Say it." Yuta said with a firm voice.

"I ouv yuas cockc" you say with his member still in your mouth.

Your hear him curse under his breath as the vibration of your throat travels down his member. Drool starts dripping onto the floor as you continued to suck. Making a mess on him that he was very much enjoying. Your lips turning purple from the nonstop work. Tears running down your face as he smiles at you.

"Don’t swallow yet." Yuta warns before aggressively shoving your throat all the way in. Holding it in that position as he pumps his sees into that mouth of yours. He could hear you gag and squirm trying to get away from him making him want to ruin you more.

After he felt like he had released everything he released your head causing you to fall backwards on your behind. Your hand flys to your chest as you gasp for air. Breathing had never felt so good until now. He stood up quickly and forced you to open your mouth to show the camera what he had left in your mouth.

"Now swallow and thank Geto for making you come here."

Your face flushes from embarrassment as you swallow his seed.

"T-thank you master Geto…for making me come here."

[darnell-la]

𝗣𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗘𝗗 𝗨𝗣 𝗙𝗥𝗢𝗠 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗔𝗥 (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ)

pairing: dark!stalker!logan howlett x bartender!reader

warnings: kidnapping, breaking skin, manhandling, choking, hard orgasm, begging, change of mind, teasing, degradation, etc.

note: lil pervy bastard. fuck, I just know he’d make sure you knew who you belonged to.

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

“W-Where am I?” Y/n asked as Logan finally played her down his bed. The layout on the room scared her, because it was similar to her own layout, just more things she’d been wanting to get that she has noted in her notebook.

“Home, princess — Gotta lay low for a couple of days though, after that stunt you pulled,” the man had glanced back at y/n as he went through his drawer that was full of clothes y/n would definitely wear, and some clothes that she noticed him missing throughout the months.

“Logan-“ y/n was scared at how much work he put in for her. He was a grade a stalker, and the worst one at that. She wouldn’t be able to fight him off. No one could, and he knew that.

“C’mere, princess,” the man said after finding a nightgown for her to wear for the night. “D-Don’t come near me!” She shouted, but it sounded so pathetic. She knew that once he laughed and continued walking towards her.

“N-No,” Logan pulled on y/n’s ankles until she was on the end of the bed. “You needa be comfortable around here, Bub. Can’t have my princess worried, stressed or anything. Not one issue,” the man said like he hadn’t kidnapped her.

Y/n could hear the sirens outside of the apartment, making her think he probably lived close to the bar, and he did.

He worked hard to earn money for his own apartment. He didn’t need to stay with the x men or anyone else for that matter. He needed his own place to have y/n in.

“Stop it, let go of me!” She yelled at the man as she kicked and swung, but the man eventually got her clothes off. Every last fabric.

“Don’t fuckin’ piss me off, y/n. I’m just gettin’ you ready for bed,” the man tried being calm. He didn’t want to hurt y/n, but she’s leaving him no choice just about.

“N-No! I wanna go home!” She yelled as she finally got loose from his grip somehow. It wasn’t long before his hand wrapped around her arm, but she was read.

The young woman had grabbed a lamp that seemed brand new and untouched. She raised it and broke it across the man’s face.

She soon regretted it as the man turned his head back to her with a terrifying look as his the cut in his cheek healed back in her face.

“You’re in for you fuckin’ bitch,” Logan cusssed before he lunged at the girl, two hands wrapping around her neck as he slammed her against the wall. The wind was knocked out of her.

Y/n cursed herself out in her mind, unlucky that she was completely naked and he was only in his boxers. If she had played along, maybe she could’ve snuck out. Or maybe she’d just stay. He’d come for her again, anyhow. She was fucked either way.

“Wanted to treat you like my little princess, but sometimes pretty girls like you needa be stooped down to a slut,”

Logan lifted the girl up and threw her from the wall to the bed. She flew across the room, shocked when she hit the mattress, but before she could process the fact he threw her like a baseball, the man lunged over her.

Logan waisted no time bite at y/n’s neck. She cried in pain, but she knew she was fucked when her head became light from the instant rush of lust.

“Mhm,” the man growled in her neck as he pulled his boxers down. Y/n pushed at the man’s thighs, begging for him to let her go, or maybe even take it easy on her, but he didn’t want to listen.

“Whores don’t get what they want,” the man whispered in the girls ear like some game, before he plunged into her, stretching her in an instant and violating her walls.

The girl cried loudly, feeling him deeper than when he fucked her over the bar counter. This man was a an animal, a fucking beast the way he bullied through her.

“Nah uh, you shut the fuck up! Fuckin’ callin’ the police on me and breaking lamps over my fuckin’ head. You’ve gotten on my last nerve tonight, y/n. Last fuckin’ nerve,” Logan’s hips snapped hard.

“P-Please, Logan — I-I’m sorry,” she cried out, regretting it all. She knew the cops were going to be no help, she knew that damn lamp wouldn’t do shit to Logan, and she knew she was so close to cumming dumb around his cock.

“Oh, really, baby? Well, you’re gonna have to show me how much you’re sorry to deal with me tonight,” Logan gave y/n a chance, but she barely wanted to take it, but she couldn’t lie anymore.

All the crying, all the trying to get away — It made no sense when the young woman knew she was going to fall apart on the man.

“S-So sorry,” y/n’s hands gripped the man’s shoulders. “S-So fucking sorry,” she cried as his teeth pushed at her neck, making sure to leave something, rather people would see it or not.

“So fuckin’ sorry, princess? You’re so sorry?” The man mocked as her head fell back. Logan looked down at the woman, watching her mouth part and eyes switch. He couldn’t help but chuckle at how fast she fell apart.

“So fuckin’ easy. I can impress this cunt in less than twelve hours,” Logan’s lips now grazed against hers. She chocked in her moans as her body stiffened. “Yeah,” Logan repeated in a low deep voice, feeling her juice soak into his mattress.

“That’s my girl — So damn good lookin’ when she goes dumb,” y/n finally cried out, feeling his thrusts get faster. “L-Logan,” the girl softly placed her hands around his neck to pull him closer.

Her mind was forced to forget every red flag about him. The way he fucked into her, made her clueless. She couldn’t understand how dangerous he was, knowing he fucked like this. She couldn’t deny how much she loved being used by an animal.

“Gonna fill this cunt up, and give you another chance to relax tonight,” the man said through his teeth as he felt his cock twitch.

Y/n never thought the man that got drunk everyday would be deep in her system one day. He was always out of it. She thought the man wouldn’t even be able to recognize her, but she was wrong.

Logan was a mutant, and the downfalls of being a good person, is y/n forgetting all about that. Forgetting that the alcohol doesn’t blind him from beauty. Forgetting he’s capable being a bad guy. Forgetting he’s capable of breeding her until she can’t carry anymore.

“F-Fuuuck,” the man buried his face in her neck as his hips rolled, stroking against the right spot, but she couldn’t react. She felt unconscious, but she was still there. She was high off of his cock.

“My fuckin’ slut,” was all her throbbing cunt could think of throughout the night as he pulled her into his hair sweaty body.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ

[steddieas-shegoes]

i'm into normal dudes and women with blue hair

HAPPY DRAGON APPRECIATION DAY! Honestly, this is 100% a joke. But in a still sort of serious way. I wrote this literally today between work things and hockey things and life things, but I needed to post it today so it isn't edited and honestly it is very rushed. But it's fun! It's meant to be silly and goofy! This is for the girl with the dragon au herself, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation . Eddie would do everything in his power to fuck a dragon, especially if it's Steve, and I think you will agree with me on that. I hope this makes you laugh a little bit 💖 - Mickala

rated m | 2786 words | cw: implied sexual content, kinda sorta implied monsterfucking ? | tags: dragon steve harrington, crack fic not treated that seriously, friends to lovers, getting together, first kiss, eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington

🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲

Steve doesn’t feel right. He doesn’t know what it is, but it’s not the flu or a cold. If it’s something serious, he’s gonna pretend it’s not. If it’s something Upside Down related, he’s probably gonna die, so it is what it is.

He just feels so warm on the inside, almost feverish, but his skin is fine. A little dry, maybe. Kinda cracked like it’s the middle of winter and he ran out of lotion. And he swears that he’s grown an inch. Maybe more. His pants are hitting above his ankle where they used to be just below.

Maybe it’s just heartburn. He did eat that taco with extra hot sauce last night, and bodies are weird or whatever.

He’s at work when his back starts hurting. He’s used to some pain in his muscles and bones, especially after the last bout with the Upside Down. He’s got chronic pain according to doctors, but it’s really not that bad unless he sleeps wrong or stands for too long on hard flooring or it rains or-

Well, it’s pretty bad a lot, actually, but this is different.

His legs start to cramp during his break, and he decides maybe it is the flu. His shift doesn’t end for another three hours, but he’s not sure he can make it that long on his feet.

He says that to Keith, who somehow managed to get a supervisor position at Melvald’s after everything despite not showing any effort in actually working. He rolls his eyes and complains about Steve trying to get out of working, says he’s never gonna become a team lead if he keeps avoiding finishing a shift.

Nevermind the fact that Steve has rarely ever left a shift early, even when he couldn’t see straight from a migraine or walk from his knee joints rubbing together until he was sure they would start a fire.

But he leaves, and he feels exhausted the moment he gets in his car, and he wonders how he’s going to get home.

The burning in his chest gets worse as he drives. His vision goes blurry and then suddenly extremely clear. He can see everything. There’s water droplets on the car in front of him, but it hasn’t rained. That’s weird.

Almost as weird as being able to see water droplets from his own car when he could barely read the license plate on the car for the first few miles that he was behind them.

He parks in his driveway and gets out of his car. The world spins a little.

He gets inside his house and collapses on his couch.

Everything goes black.

****

“Okay. So we just aren’t gonna call anyone else about this?” Robin’s voice breaks through Steve’s consciousness, and he blinks his eyes open. “No one else should know about Steve no longer being human?”

Steve finds that to be a concerning statement.

“I’m not sure what anyone else is gonna be able to do about his current situation!” Eddie whisper-yells.

Steve opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a weird growl.

And then everything else hits him.

He is much larger than when he passed out. He looks down and realizes the concerning words Robin spoke are even more concerning than he originally thought.

He growls again, louder.

“Okay, Steve? Stay calm. You appear to be a dragon. But like, that’s kinda par for the course! Like, I’m sure it’s temporary!” Robin is rambling and she is loud and the room is so bright. He’s not even sure how he still fits in the room.

“I just think if we called Hopper, he could at least figure out who needs to know!” Eddie ignores Steve’s growling.

Apparently, he can’t fucking speak, and he’s a dragon. So that’s cool, and he’s so glad he left work early so he didn’t have to explain becoming a flying fantasy creature to Keith or a random shopper. That would be quite a conversation.

“This is so bad. He can’t talk!” Robin ignores Eddie’s suggestion, which isn’t a bad one at all in Steve’s opinion. Eddie’s actually very logical and smart most of the time. Turns out when he’s not being wrongfully hunted by the cops, he’s a pretty chill dude. “Steve, can you write?”

Steve blinks and he feels something burning in his chest.

“Of course he can’t write!” Eddie exclaims. “He has claws!”

Steve tilts his head down and realizes Eddie’s right. He doesn’t have hands. He’s got claws. Sharp ones.

He makes a noise that sounds closer to a whimper than a growl, and the room goes quiet.

“Are you in pain?” Robin asks.

Steve looks at her concerned eyes, her bitten-red lips, her anxiously wringing hands. She’s gotta calm down before she has a full-blown panic attack.

He shakes his head once before leaning forward to gently nudge her hands with his nose.

God, this is weird.

“This is so fucking weird,” Eddie says under his breath. Steve’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have heard it if he were human.

Steve tilts his head so his nose nudges against Eddie’s cheek.

Eddie lets out a strangled laugh before he reaches a hand up to touch Steve’s neck.

“This is unreal.”

Steve finally recognizes the burning feeling as fire. He’s a dragon. He’s gonna breathe fire. This is so fucking strange.

He pushes up and somehow manages to turn his body until he’s facing the window. He won’t be able to open it without breaking it, so he hopes Robin or Eddie figure out his intentions. He’d really like to not burn his house down.

Eddie seems to catch on quickly, rushing to make room between Steve’s face and the window. He unlocks it and throws it open, hurrying away from Steve’s mouth.

Fire pours from him for nearly ten whole seconds.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie says when he’s done. “Does that hurt?”

Steve shakes his head again. If anything, it relieves him of that burning sensation that’s been in his chest all day. He feels lighter.

He’s still a dragon, though.

That’s a pretty big issue.

“Okay. Alright. We call Hopper. We swear him to secrecy. If the kids find out-“

“Dustin can never know about this. He’ll be insufferable during campaigns,” Eddie says, one hand caressing Steve’s scaly skin. It feels nice, soothing. Human Steve hasn’t had a caring touch in a while, so it might feel even better than usual. “But what if they find out anyway? What if he stays like this forever?”

Great question. Steve definitely wants to know the answer to that.

“Well, dragon and human marriage isn’t technically illegal, so I guess you’ll have your happily ever after,” Robin says.

Steve’s head swivels and he hears a crash.

Eddie’s hand is no longer touching him and that’s a shame because it felt really nice and it’s a pretty good distraction from the fact that he’s a very large dragon.

”What the fuck, Buckley.”

“God! I ramble when I’m nervous!” Robin is apologizing and Steve is wishing more than ever that he could talk. He needs to understand what the hell she means. “I’m gonna go call Hopper before I say something I shouldn’t.”

Eddie’s pacing the floor in the very small space that exists around Steve’s body.

Actually, he decides now is as good a time as any to take a look at what’s going on. He can feel how big he is, but it doesn’t really register until he turns his head to see the wide expanse of his body. He doesn’t see wings, which is bullshit. If he has to be a dragon, he should get wings, right? Eddie always draws them with wings. His tail is spiked, but not nearly as long as he expected it to be.

Damn, is he a disappointing dragon?

“Dude, I dunno what she was talking about with the marriage thing. Sorry if that made something weird.” Eddie is rambling now and Steve is focusing back on him instead of the way his chest and belly seem to be much more durable than the rest of his skin. There’s a lot to unpack with this development. “I’m not into dragons. I’m into normal dudes and women with blue hair. Probably also dudes with blue hair. But, normal dudes do it for me. Like you usually are my top pick. Oh fuck.”

Steve huffs what should be an amused laugh, but ends up just being a half-snort.

“I mean not that you aren’t kind of hot like this!” Eddie rushes to say. “If dragons were hot, you would be the hottest dragon around. In fact, there’s a voice in my brain that’s very curious about how this would work like…sexually. But obviously that can’t happen. It won’t happen! I’m sorry. I’m shutting up. Maybe even leaving.”

Steve’s mind is reeling. He’s even more frustrated that he can’t speak now that Eddie’s clearly talking himself into a hole he might not be able to climb back out of.

He didn’t even realize he was Eddie’s type. He didn’t even know Eddie was his type until a few weeks ago! And now he can’t do anything about it because he’s a dragon.

He huffs again, but this time in frustration.

“Hop’s on his way!” Robin yells as she walks back into the room. With both of them and Steve taking up almost the entire room, Steve notices how hot it’s getting.

“One of us should probably tell Nancy. She’s gonna want to know about this,” Eddie suggests. “And she likes you way more so it should probably be you.”

“I’m not leaving Steve right now. He’s in the middle of the biggest crisis of his life.”

Steve grunts. This is surprisingly not the biggest crisis of his life. Top three, maybe.

He nudges Robin towards the door with his nose. Her panic is too much for him right now, and Eddie’s is a different panic. He can handle Eddie.

“You want me to go?” Robin clarifies.

Steve nods his head once. More than once is a chore. His head is so heavy.

“Fine, but I’m coming right back after. I’m not letting you be a dragon alone,” Robin says before rushing out the door.

Steve looks over at Eddie and feels his whole body shiver.

What the hell is that about?

“Are you hungry…or thirsty…or anything else?” Eddie asks awkwardly.

Steve’s good. He doesn’t feel any pain for the first time in a long time. He isn’t hungry or thirsty. He shivers again.

“Are you cold?” Eddie must notice, stepping so close that all Steve can smell is whatever cologne Eddie wore today and his leather jacket. “I can shut the window.”

Steve leans his head down, nudges his nose against Eddie’s neck.

He jumps.

“Cold,” he breathes out. “Are you okay?”

Steve wants to tell him yes. He’s inconvenienced, but he’s okay.

He nods once.

“I can wait outside?” Eddie offers.

Steve shakes his head. He shivers.

Eddie’s eyes widen. “Uh. I think maybe you need to be outside.”

Eddie walks to his shoulder, touches just past what would normally be his shoulder blade.

It’s almost too much when Eddie’s fingers brush against the leathery skin there. Steve lets out a rumbling noise, something between a growl and a moan. He isn’t sure if dragons can moan, but he assumes they can be turned on, and Eddie’s touch seems to be doing that.

“You have wings,” Eddie’s voice is awed. “I don’t even know how to get you out the door. God, what if you’re stuck in here? Like a caged bird. I’ll break a wall or something. Wayne could patch up something for you. But the neighbors…”

Steve feels it more definitely now: wings trying desperately to spread behind him.

He probably should be outside. He can’t be right now, not here, but they have to figure that out if he doesn’t change back soon.

“Okay. It’ll be late enough in the next hour, we could probably get the sliding glass doors out of the way and maybe you could-” Steve cuts him off with a nudge to his neck. “I wish you could tell me what you’re thinking.”

Steve wishes that, too. He’s not sure how he’s gonna get out of this predicament without explaining what he does know, and he can’t do that if he can’t talk.

Eddie rests his head against Steve’s shoulder, and it can’t be comfortable, but he stays there as he fills the silence. Sometimes, Eddie talks too much. Right now, Steve’s glad he has things to say.

“...And Wayne insisted I tell you, but he doesn’t understand that you’re not into guys. He keeps saying you probably just never considered it an option, but that’s probably not true. I mean, you and Tommy were close and it seems like maybe if you were gonna be into dudes, he’d be your type.”

Steve huffs and Eddie laughs.

“Okay, okay. So he wouldn’t be your type. Tom Cruise?”

Steve knocks his jaw against the top of Eddie’s head. He’s gentle because he already recognizes the damage he could do if he wasn’t.

“Knew it,” Eddie sighs. “I have about as much in common with Tom Cruise as Wayne does.”

It’s quiet for a minute. Steve wishes he could say something, tell Eddie that he does think Tom Cruise is hot, but he finds Eddie beautiful, and that difference is important. He wishes he could tell Eddie that he doesn’t find Tom Cruise interesting, doesn’t think he would enjoy listening to him talk about campaigns and music and whatever random fact he read in a book.

Eddie’s head turns, and his mouth is brushing against Steve’s scales. He can’t believe he has scales.

And then he doesn’t.

He feels lightheaded, the room goes black, and when he opens his eyes again, he’s on the floor with his head propped in Eddie’s lap.

His human head.

Attached to his human body.

“Steve? Jesus Christ. Are you okay?” Eddie’s too loud.

Steve raises his hand and pats Eddie’s cheek, smiling up at him. “Can’t believe you would fuck me as a dragon.”

Eddie cackles. There’s no other word for the hysterical laughter he can’t seem to control from bursting out of him.

“I would fuck you as anything, I think,” he says when he finally calms down. He isn’t looking away from Steve and Steve isn’t looking away from him.

He’s suddenly exhausted, and he’s sure that whatever his body just went through is going to take some major recovery. Steve closes his eyes and holds Eddie’s hand against his chest.

“Tell Hop I started feeling warm inside and then grew and became a dragon,” he mumbles, yawns, smacks his lips together as he settles more in Eddie’s lap. “Might happen again.”

“Right. Should I take you to the hospital?” Eddie sounds far away now.

“Nope.”

Eddie leans down to kiss his forehead, brushes the hair from Steve’s face. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m fine,” Steve blinks his eyes open, uses every ounce of energy he has left to do it. “Am I a normal dude?”

Eddie’s forehead crinkles. “What do you mean?”

“You said you were into normal dudes. Is that me?”

Eddie tenses under him.

“You’re a normal dude, yeah.”

“So you’re into me?” Steve closes his eyes again. “Enough to kiss me?”

“I cannot believe this is happening. This night has to be a dream. Or someone finally got their hands on me and killed me.”

“I like dudes who like dragons,” Steve says, smiling lazily as he curls up his body to fight off the cold. He realizes he’s naked, and should probably cover up before Hopper gets here, but he doesn’t want to move. “And dudes who play guitar and ramble when they’re nervous.”

“Oh,” Eddie gasps. “So…you like me?”

“Kiss me before I change my mind.”

Steve’s too tired to put much into the kiss, but Eddie leads, and it’s perfect. There’s not much he can do about his dick getting hard when Eddie deepens the kiss and runs his hands down his sides. He’s exhausted, but his dick isn’t.

Eddie manages to get them to the couch, and Steve manages not to fall asleep until after Eddie’s gotten him off. The mess can wait, but Eddie throws a blanket over them when he hears a car door slam and boots walking up to the door.

“Did you get high or was Steve really a dragon?” Hopper asks as Steve loses his battle with the exhaustion.

Hopefully he wakes up human, but he thinks even if he doesn’t, Eddie will still be into him.

[thoughtsforsoob]

im thinking about y/n fucking CEO yeonjun for a raise

CEO!YEONJUN X F!READER

a/n: hello anon!! thank you for the ask :) I usually wouldn’t write something like this (because I’m a strong independent woman that has tons of self respect) but for yeonjun I’d do pretty much anything 🥰 that’s my man right there. Anyways, please enjoy!!

You had just graduated college not so long ago and you were finally out looking for a job! You managed to secure your first position at your first choice company, working as a software developer! you were so proud of yourself and you were happy to finally be able to be independent and support yourself. You had a small apartment and nice things in said apartment but sometimes, you wish you had a little more money to save and to use to go out with your friends once in a while. hence why, after about 6 months, you go in to have a netting with your boss: yeonjun.

you were nervous about this meeting for a few different reasons. Yeonjun was a really handsome individual. Like…so handsome that he border-lined sexy. How could you possibly think of your boss this way? That’s so wrong! You did your best to avoid him because everytime you spoke to him, your cheeks and ears would go bright red and he could see your shyness.

Now, you were stepping into his office after his receptionist said you could. You took a breath before opening the door and finally walked in. There he was, in his usual fancy work attire, looking sexy as always. He was wearing a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and his usual black slacks. He never wore fancy shoes though, always opting for vans or converse that also came in black. That made him a little less intimidating but still, you were no less nervous to speak to him.

He smiled when he saw it was you and other you to take a seat. “Oh y/n, come on in. Take a seat! Would you like anything to drink?” You shake your head no and he looks at you still. “So, tell me what you’re in for today? Is everything alright around the office?” You look down at your hands and then up at him, “yeah, everything in the office is okay. I kinda needed to ask more of a personal question.” Yeonjun nods and you ask your question. “A raise? Well, you have been doing really well. You’re probably one of our best employees.” Your eyes go wide and you smile. “Really? Does that mean you’ll consider a raise? Even if it’s a small one. I kinda need it.” He looks at you and thinks for a second, “well, maybe I’ll consider if you do something for me.” You were curious as to what he wanted so you asked him and you were shocked to hear his answer. “Just have sex with me. I think you’re really beautiful. If you do it, I’ll give you a $10 raise.” Your eyes get bigger at his offer. A whole ten extra dollars an hour??? That would be plenty to save up for that new hand bag you wanted!

you usually had a little more self-respect than this but you couldn't help it. the offer was too good to pass up no matter what you had to do. thats how you find yourself bent over your bosses desk, skirt bunched up at your waist and panties pooling at your ankles. he's standing behind you, teasing you dripping slit with his erection. he's smirking and using his free hand to caress your ass. "so pretty. how did i not ask for this sooner?"

he finally decided to stop teasing and pushing himself inside of you. you whine at the sudden intrustion and he leans over, grabbing one of your hands and intertwing it with his. "its okay, sweet girl. no need to whine. it's not gonna hurt for long." he kisses your cheek and pulls back to his previous position. when you tell him it was okay to move, he finally starts to thrust. he goes gently the whole time and calls you such pretty names. "such a beautiful girl taking it so well. you like this, hmm? when a big, important man treats you nicely?"

he continues his movements until you starts whining to cum. "mm sir...please. wanna-" you were cut off by his groan. "sir? you called me sir? say it again." he sniffle from the tears falling from your eyes, "sir! please!" he groans again and leans over again, getting closer to your face. "cum for me, pretty. wanna see that gorgeous face." with his words, you were sent overthe edge and finally let go. you cry out at the euphoric feeling and yeonjun continues to thrust, pulling out when he's ready to cum. he pumps himself a few more times and cums all over your ass. he smirks when he sees his work.

when you're done, you attempt to put your clothes back on buthe stops you. "hey, what are you doing? let me take care of you." you were suprised by this and turned, "sir, are you sure? you don;t have to do that. i understand if you don't have time for me beyond this." he shakes his head and chuckles, "i don't just have sex with anyone. what if i liked you and wanted to take you on a date? what wold you say?" you look at his eyes and they were sincere. "mm fine. lets go on a date." he smiled and kissed your cheek.

once he finally cleans you up and dresses you once again, he escorts you out of his offce with a wink and his phone number now in your phone.

[zepskies]

Hello. I was wondering if you could write an imagine in the BMD-verse (been following it for a while now; love, love, love it, by the way!) where Ben cries?

Like something really bad happens in general or to the Reader, and he losses it? I mean, personally, I have never known this man to cry, and I would love to see you conjure up something that could possibly elicite that reaction from him.

But no pressure - will definitely understand if you don't want to write it!

Oooh, so you really wanna kill me, huh? 🫠😭😭

Lol it's okay, thank you for loving Break Me Down!! It's one of my favorite story verses that I've been able to create on here. ❤️❤️

This request was difficult for me on multiple levels, but I think I was able to pull it off? (I'll let you be the judge.) This is set in the BMD-verse, shortly after "Love Actually."

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Word Count: 2,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst, show-level violence, hurt/comfort, "twist" ending (you'll want to read until the end, trust me).

Imagine: Ben loses you.

Ben restrained another sigh when he realized you were no longer walking next to him.

He turned and saw you stopping in another damn kiosk, this time looking at a selection of Pashmina scarves. As if you didn’t have enough clothes.

“We’re not here for a damn shopping spree,” he called after you.

He ignored the people who glanced at him as they walked past, a couple of them even shooting him an annoyed look.

One didn’t just stop in the middle of a busy sidewalk in New York City, but as with most societal protocols, Ben couldn't really give a fuck.

He almost started tapping his foot. Instead, he crossed his arms as he glared in your general direction. You were smiling and chatting with the woman selling her wares as you finished the transaction.

Ben at least could admire the view of you bent over in those tight jeans and ankle boots. You also wore the dark green winter coat he bought you last month, lined with faux fur to keep you warm.

When you eventually came back to him, you shot him an amused smile. You held a new scarf in shades of green and blue, to match your coat. But you also held out a new pair of leather gloves for him.

“Here you go, Grumpy. I didn't forget about you,” you teased. He raised a wry brow at you and took the gloves. He inspected them with a half-critical eye.

“And how much did these cost, five cents?”

You rolled your eyes and kept walking. He caught up with you and slipped the gloves into his pocket.

“My hands don’t get cold anyway,” he reminded you. And you often complained that his body heat was like a radiator, especially at night. Although, you hadn’t been complaining since the winter turned frigid this February.

“All right, whatever. Just don’t say I never get you anything,” you quipped. “Besides, you know you love to accessorize.”

A smirk pulled at Ben’s lips. The gloves were a half-assed gift, but he still wore the watch you got him for Christmas proudly on his wrist. That was a nice silver Rolex.

“All I know is, we’d better not be late for this damn meeting,” he said. “I don’t wanna hear Mallory’s fucking mouth.”

The two of you had made a day of coming into the city, hitting a nice brunch spot and ice skating at Rockefeller center before your date had been rudely interrupted—by a call for a new mission.

Grace Mallory had been a bit cryptic on the phone, but it had something to do with the mess Ben left of the drug cartels in South America. After they got back to the States, Ben left that “business” behind…he just hadn’t thought of how that would shake out in Colombia.  

So now, you two were headed to the Supe Affairs building. You slipped your arm around his, while his hands were in his pockets. You looked up at him with a smile.

“Try to enjoy the little things, Ben,” you told him. “We had mimosas and some bougie ass lobster tails with our eggs this morning. I skated circles around you on the ice. And now we’re going to get some work done.”

“On our day off,” he retorted.

“To be fair, you made the mess, Mr. Kingpin,” you pointed out. “We’ve just gotta clean it up…as usual.”

“Hey," he eyed you. But you both knew the warning had little heat behind it.

He still reached for your cheek and brushed his thumb across it. He felt how cold your face was, and he stopped for a moment in the middle of the sidewalk. Neither of you cared when pedestrians gave you dirty looks as they passed by.

Maybe you were right though. Maybe he should take stock of the small moments. Ben held your face with both hands and caressed some warmth back into your skin.

Your smile softened, and your eyes closed when his lips found their way to your forehead. He then took the newly bought scarf out of your hand and wrapped it comfortably around your neck.

“What a gentleman,” you said, with a small grin.

Ben smirked down at you…until his face fell.

He heard the whistle of the bullet before he saw it.

It took him another second to move, grabbing you and shielding you with his entire body when it hit his back. The bullet itself bounced harmlessly off his skin, but the inner compartment of Novichok exploded like a small smoke bomb. The smell was too familiar to him to be anything else.

Ben coughed and was forced to push you away from him before the gas reached you. You yelped and almost tripped on your feet, but you scrambled back against the wall of a drycleaners. Your wide eyes met his as his knees buckled; the gas had clouded around his head.

“Run!” he shouted through fits of coughing.

You hesitated, for just a second. But when another bullet ricocheted into the wall behind you, near your head, you ducked and had to take off running.

You wove through the busy sidewalk, pushing people out of your way as you went. Whoever was after him this time, you had a feeling these were the people Ben had pissed off in Colombia.

Fuck! You sprinted past an alleyway and saw the hand coming for your arm, but even when you turned, there was another man, dressed a black military-style uniform with his face covered by a black mask, waiting to grab you from behind.

It was muscle memory. You released an elbow into the man’s neck, a punch straight into his teeth and nose, then kicked his knee out with the heel of your boot.

You grabbed your gun from under your jacket and would've shot him, except the next man wheelhouse kicked it out of your hand. You stepped back on instinct, ducking the following punch, and the rest of his arm to run in the opposite direction.

The first man pointed a large automatic gun straight in your face. You gasped and put your hands up. With a quick glance in either direction, you realized that they’d cornered you.

Your hands were pulled behind your back by someone else. That’s when they started dragging you toward a black SUV parked in the corner.

Except that car was soon destroyed, by an old Honda Civic being shoved into it. The SUV's hood constantined like an accordion.

You looked up with wide eyes, and there stood Ben, at the crossroads of the alley. He was furious.

“Soldier Boy,” greeted the man who once again held the automatic gun poised at you. He pulled down his mask, revealing the tan face of a middle-aged man.

He moved over to you and grabbed your arm from his subordinate. He raised the gun to your back. With one press of his finger, your insides could become Swiss cheese.

Your jaw clenched as you tried to take in even breaths. You focused on Ben. His green eyes met yours, and briefly you caught the worry behind them before his steely gaze moved back to the man who held you.

“Pretty ballsy, Reyes,” Ben said. His voice was a drawl, more controlled than he felt. “You really thought this was gonna go down that easy?”

Reyes scoffed. “You’re the ballsy one. Taking off with all that product you stole.”

“You’ll have to take up with the CIA on that one,” Ben replied. “They confiscated all the smack from my place. Probably reselling it to a few hobos down the street. You’re welcome to check under the bridge over there.”

He gestured in the direction of the Hudson River.  

Reyes shrugged. The sound of a gun’s safety being clipped back resounded through the alley. You felt the vibration of it on your back. Your eyes closed for a moment.

“Bad news for her,” he said.

"Hey," Ben snapped. "There's no fucking need for that."

"I think I'll decide what we need," said Reyes. Your lips pursed as the gun dug into your back. "Maybe it's your bitch's insides at your feet."

Ben slowly raised a placating hand. Though his gait was still relaxed and arrogant, as always, you knew it was a well-crafted act. To hide his anger. His fear. To seem in control of himself, and to reinforce the intimidating presence he still was, even unarmed.

“Listen. If it’s money you want, we can work it out,” Ben replied.

His eyes once again found yours. He could see you were holding your breath. You were good at hiding it, but he knew you were scared. He wanted to tell you that he had this handled. That everything would be all right.

He focused on Reyes again. The other man considered the supe with a tilt of his head. He sucked his teeth and spit on the ground, out of the corner of his mouth. It was mixed with a bit of blood from when you'd punched him in the teeth.

“Okay, my friend,” said Reyes. “Let’s work this out. Pull out your phone.”

Ben made slow movements in grabbing his phone from his pocket. They all stepped further into the alley to avoid prying eyes and discussed the transfer of funds, and how much was fair. Ben claimed he was giving him a deal with his first offer.

Reyes demanded three times that amount. Ben raised his brows...but he complied. The money transferred from his bank account.

“Okay, we’re fucking done,” Ben snarked. He gestured at you with his eyes. “Let her go.”

In his mind, he was already contemplating how thoroughly he'd rip Reyes apart for this. After you were safe. He'd have a first class ticket to Medellin by tonight, ready to Colombian-necktie this cocksucker.

Reyes sighed through his nose. There was still about ten feet between him and Ben. He didn't seem to think it was enough. He took the gun off your back and backed up with you a few steps. Eventually, he released your arm.

“Come ‘ere, sweetheart,” Ben reached a hand out, beckoning for you. You met his gaze once again, and let out a subtle breath.

You took three hesitant steps forward.

And the gunshots echoed horribly through the alley.

As it turned out, Reyes always had an escape plan. You were merely the distraction.

It proved effective, as Ben’s protest rang out as soon as the bullets fired. He raced forward and caught you as you stumbled, but his hands soon became coated in your blood; it fled from your back in thin rivulets.

You gasped and clung to his arms. His ears rang with the sound, along with tires squealing and shouts and police sirens. All he could focus on was the color draining from your face.

Both of your breaths came out ragged as he slid with you down to his knees. He brushed your hair away from your face, even as his blood-covered hand stained your cheek. Your pained eyes drew up to his face. You tried to speak, but you didn't have the strength.

“I hear the sirens. They’re coming for you, take you to the hospital,” he promised. His voice was rough, but his throat was tight. His eyes scanned over you. “All you need is my blood and…Christ. Fuck it all.”

He laid you down on the dirty asphalt and hurriedly yanked up his coat sleeve until it ripped. It exposed his arm. He was about to drag a blunt nail across his own skin to bleed into you.

“Ben.” Your fingers twitched against his knee.

When he looked at your face, there was no longer life in your eyes.

His own were wide, almost uncomprehending. His breathing was harsh as empty hands fell to his thighs. His head felt heavy, though his ears were still ringing.

He drew enough strength in his hand to wipe the blood from your cold cheek…but your face was beginning to blur.

Or not, he realized, as the sting in his eyes took him by surprise.

In a fit of mania, he gathered you back up in his arms and ignored the wetness covering your back. He held you, impossibly tight. Tighter than he’d ever held you, because he was alone in the alley…because he was alone again.

And it was his own fault.

His eyes squeezed shut against the burn, but it was futile. Everything was. His breaths were sharp and stifled as pain tore inside. A pain worse than anything the Russian's could've inflicted on him.

His lips pressed against your forehead, trembling there. The first drops of wetness rolled down his cheek. He couldn't stop it from happening, but then again. He guessed he truly was a failure, after all.

You made the mess…

His first tears had been spent at his mother’s funeral, when he stood alone at her gravestone.

His last ones would fall and die with you.

“Ben,” your voice was soft but insistent.

He finally woke with a start. A sharp inhale through his nose.

He had been sleeping on his side. Before he even truly registered where he was, in the safety of his bedroom, he turned his head toward you.

His eyes found your face in the dark, over his shoulder. Your hair was frizzy from sleep. The strap of your nightgown had fallen off one shoulder. Your face looked bleary and tired, but you frowned in concern.

“You okay, baby?” you asked. Your hand soothed across the dewy skin on his arm.

Ben’s throat constricted. He was starting to remember bits and pieces of the dream…the nightmare. He rubbed at his eyes, then dragged a hand over his mouth.

“Yeah,” he said at last.

“Hmm.” Your gaze narrowed at him. “You sure?”

Ben had only enough energy in him to nod in response. His heart was still racing. Maybe you sensed that, because you leaned onto his arm and dropped a hand down his chest. You kissed his bare shoulder with soft lips, and he couldn’t help himself.

He raised a hand to cup the back of your head. He let out a long, relieved sigh through his nose, closing his eyes. Then he turned onto his back and brought you closer, with an arm slipping around your frame and pulling you against his chest. You made a sound of surprise, but you went willingly.

You brushed the sweaty strands of hair away from his face and pressed a kiss against his neck, to his jaw, his cheek and above his brow. He accepted it all and tried to calm his breathing with the feeling of your touch, and the smell of your flowery soap that lingered on your skin.

With a hand still cupping your head, he guided your lips to his. He claimed you slowly, but with purpose. You answered him by tilting your head, deepening the kiss for a moment.

You parted from him just as slowly. You knew everything wasn’t okay, but you also knew it wasn’t the time to push him for an answer.

Maybe in the morning, you thought. …I’ll make pancakes. Haven't done that in a while. And he’s always happier with something sweet.

You rested contentedly against his warm chest and let his heartbeat, gradually slowing back into a steady rhythm, lull you back to sleep.

Ben tangled his fingers into your hair. He laid one more kiss on the top of your head.

And for damn sure, he was going to cancel that trip into the city tomorrow.

AN: I know, I know. The "it was all a dream" thing is super cheesy, but I couldn't leave it on heartbreak. I just don't have it in me with these two. 🥲❤️‍🩹

Read the Sequel:

A friend of mine requested a sequel to this imagine: "You confront Ben about his fears."

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxovienna @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

[guilty-pleasures21]

The last of the real ones

No context, no explanations. Just words and emotions spilling onto my keyboard. Listen to the songs for the full experience.

An only child of the universe

The waves

Wet concrete pt II

This whole damn city

Does your therapist know?

Too good to be true

The only one

Warnings: descriptions of grief and brief references to suicide.

----------------------------------------------------------

“I will shield you from the waves. If they find you, I will protect you.”

     She stared him down, her daggers held protectively in front of her. She didn't know who this ‘Red Hood’ hooligan was and she didn't care. All she cared about was defending her city to her very last breath, just like her precious Jason had done. She didn't think she'd survive when he'd been stolen from her - her best friend, her confidante, her soulmate - but then she'd vowed to make The Joker pay for what he'd done. She would stay alive, she'd promised Jason over his grave, if only to make sure that The Joker would suffer for as long and as hard as she had to. 

     “Looks like the little birdie chose the wrong night to walk the streets alone,” one of the Hood’s goons chuckled, loading his gun and taking aim at her. “You should- Ahh!”

     The man yelled in surprise when a bullet grazed the edge of his hand, knocking his weapon to the ground. He turned to the Hood, who kept his gun trained on the man even as his gaze remained fixed on the doomed vigilante standing before them. “What the-”

     “You will not … touch her,” the Hood warned them, his disguised voice firm and unflinching as he gave the command. He turned to the man, his features concealed entirely by the darkened visor of his helmet, and the man stepped back in line. 

     Jason tucked his gun back in its holster and turned back to his best friend, the one neither death nor torture had ever been able to erase from his heart. She looked … so much the same that it physically hurt. The same dark curls, the same full lips, the same soft cheeks … He took a step closer to her, his fingers aching with the need to reach out and touch her; to pull her to him and find out if she still smelled of lavenders, if she still felt as soft as his favourite pillow, if the feeling of holding her in his arms still loosened the tightness in his stomach and the knot in his chest. But she kept her daggers held up in front of her, that determined expression remaining on her face even as she had to crane her neck back to hold his gaze. Jason's breath hitched in his throat at the revelation of how much smaller than him she was now, and he held a hand back to his henchmen, waving them away. They shuffled around in confusion, unsure what to do, so he twisted around to yell at them. “Go! I'll deal with this.”

     Her eyes flickered briefly over to the disappearing goons, just as bewildered as she was, then she returned her gaze to the Red Hood. He stared at her, waiting until everyone had left; until it was just the two of them, alone on a dimly lit street in the middle of a Gotham at war. Then he raised his fists and got into a fighting stance. 

     She didn't know how long they'd been fighting for, but her frustration had continued to grow with every movement he made - his dodges, his blocks, the way he somehow anticipated her every move and caught her fist or ankle before she could hit him. It was just like Jason. Her Jason. Her best friend, who'd trained with her every day until they could practically read each other's minds. Her soulmate, whose death had shattered her into pieces, leaving her incomplete and unable to ever be fixed. She screamed at this wicked stranger, who didn't deserve to remind her of her precious Jason and hit him harder, pummelling him until her arms were numb and her throat was raw and she could barely stand anymore. And still, he never hit her back. 

     “Just kill me already!” she sobbed, falling to her knees before him. “I can't do this anymore! I can't- … I can't do this without you, Jay, I'm sorry …”

     Jason froze, feeling like someone had shot a cannonball through his chest and ripped his heart out. How long had it been since he'd heard her voice? He'd remembered the sound of it, enough for it to fill his dreams every night since he'd been forced back to life, but … he'd never heard it sound so … raw. So tired and so full of pain. He doubled over and sucked in a breath, desperately trying to pull some air back into his drowning lungs. Then finally, his heart relaxed and his breathing slowed. Jason inhaled deeply, then hesitantly crouched down beside his best friend.

     He wasn't sure if she would scream at him again or recoil away from him in disgust, so he reached out her with his fingers first, carefully stretching them in her direction. X didn't react, too deep in her own anguish to notice that he hadn't left - that he was still there, still waiting patiently by her side - so, Jason wrapped her up in his arms and pulled her to him. A wave of relief flooded his chest as his best friend collapsed against him, her body shuddering with pained sobs. Jason lay his head on hers, breathing in the same lavender scent that had never failed to soothe the pounding of his heart, and held her securely while she cried. He didn't know how long they stayed like that - a minute? An hour? An eternity? - but it still felt much too soon when she finally gasped and wrenched herself away from him. Jason looked up with parted lips as X shot to her feet, her movements so sudden that he almost didn’t register the hateful glare she fixed him with - almost. 

     “Get away from me!” she screeched. Then, before he could even begin to rise to his feet, she was gone, disappearing into the night.

“Write our names in the wet concrete.” 

     He wasn’t sure where she might have gone, but after wandering Gotham for a bit, Jason found himself by the now abandoned orphanage his best friend used to live in before he’d convinced Bruce to adopt her too. He crossed the grounds behind the building, making his way to the overgrown tree at the end, and stopped when he reached it. 

     ‘There!’ X had declared, stepping back and admiring her handiwork. ‘It’s perfect!’ 

     Jason had tilted his head, studying the words she’d so painstakingly carved into the bark. ‘You’re getting really good with those knives.’

     X had grinned at his praise and tucked her shiny new daggers back into their pockets on either side of her belt. Bruce had allowed them to go on patrol by themselves while he’d dealt with one of his usual villains and they’d ended up at the orphanage by an old oak tree X had used to play under when she'd lived there.

     ‘Are you kids done?’ Jason and X had turned around in surprise, caught off guard by Bruce’s sudden appearance. They’d quickly clasped their hands behind their backs and shot Bruce equally guilty smiles. But though his eyes had flickered to the words they’d carved into the front of the tree, he'd said nothing about their vandalism and instead, gestured for them to start heading home. 

     Jason reached up and traced his fingers across the carving: Robin x Nightingale. A challenge to the world, a promise to one another … a vow he'd failed to keep. Suddenly, he felt a blade pressing against the side of his throat. “Don’t you dare lay your fingers on that.” 

     Jason inhaled a shaky breath and raised his hands in the air, letting her know that he wasn’t about to hurt her. X loosened her grip slightly and Jason took it as a sign to turn around. He waited patiently as her eyes roved over his darkened visor, desperately searching for any hint of his features, and stole the opportunity to study hers in turn. She looked … angry. The same kind of angry he’d spent months - years - letting fuel his training while he’d been in the League of Assassins. The same kind of angry that festered within him during every waking moment, devouring everything in its path until there was nothing left inside of him but the anger, the anger, the anger. So, he offered her the only thing he had. “If you need to fight-”

     “I don’t want to fight!” X screamed, lowering her hand back to her side. “I’m sick and tired of fighting all the time!” 

     She threw her knife into the ground, burying the blade in the soil, and took a few steps away from him. “Why do all you men want to fight so badly?! Just leave me the hell alone or help me die in peace.” 

    She sank to the ground and pulled her knees into her chest, curling up into herself in the same way she’d always done as a child. Jason’s heart squeezed at the sight - at her words, so despondent and defeated - and lowered himself to the ground too. X kept her head tucked into her chest as they sat in silence and Jason took advantage of her lowered gaze to study the rest of her, meticulously taking notes on all the parts of his best friend that were the same and all the parts that had changed. Eventually, when the silence had stretched on long enough that he worried she’d forgotten that he was even there, Jason dropped his gaze to the ground and began tracing circles in the dirt. His heart thudded rapidly in his chest as he gathered up the courage to speak … Then finally, he forced the words out. “I still think ‘Dove’ suits you better.” 

     The world stopped moving and she could swear her heart shot up into her throat at his words. X looked up at the Red Hood, stunned by his knowledge of the familiar nickname - the one only one person in the entire world had ever called her by … but it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be, it couldn’t be, it couldn’t be; every rational part of her told her that it couldn’t be her Jason … and yet, her heart continued to pound against her ribs with hope. She didn’t breathe as the Hood got to his feet and slowly removed his helmet, revealing to her dark and slightly overgrown hair with an unfamiliar white streak running through the fringe. It felt like another age passed before he finally looked up at her, fixing her with the same moss-green eyes that had haunted her dreams since she’d seen the light drain out of them on the floor at that warehouse, all those years ago. She sucked in a breath as her eyes sprinted desperately across his features, matching all the now faded scars with the wounds she’d remembered carefully cleaning on her precious Jason’s unmoving face: a strip through his right eyebrow, a nick on the left side of his cupid’s bow, a slice along the right underside of his jaw … He looked a little older now, a little more battered and a little more angry, but still … her Jason. 

     She shot to her feet and covered her mouth as a sob escaped her throat. Jason gazed at her with a sorry expression - silently apologising for not having told her earlier - but she still didn’t seem to believe that it really was him. 

     “How dare you!” she screamed, furious at this stranger who had stolen the face of her sweet and precious little Jason. “What the hell do you …?! How can you …?!”

     She took a step towards him with each unfinished sentence, until she was standing close enough to raise her hand in the air and pull it back in preparation. But the stranger caught her wrist before the slap could land on his face, his gaze fixed entirely on hers. 

     “It’s me, X,” he whispered, his voice low and deep and unfamiliar. She gasped at the sound of her name in his new voice - the name no one outside the Batfamily would know to call the vigilante Nightingale by - then she ripped her mask off and tossed it aside, wanting a closer look at him, needing to believe that it really was her Jason. 

     Another sob fell from her lips as she crumpled against him and Jason released her wrist to slide his arms around her. X cupped his face in her hands, her smooth skin catching on the rough bumps of his stubble as she brushed her fingers along the now sharp lines of his cheekbones and jaw.

     “How?” she whispered, the tears dripping down her cheeks as her eyes flickered back up to the one part of him that hadn’t changed in the slightest. Jason clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on her waist. 

     “Ra’s …” he began, cutting himself off when the name curled around his heart and squeezed. He glanced to the side, unable to look at his best friend’s sweet face as memories of all the torture he’d had to endure at the hands of that monster raced through his mind. “... brought me back.”

     X pulled his gaze back to hers, her touch gentle but firm. And suddenly - for what felt like the first time since he'd been reborn - Jason Todd could breathe again. 

     He watched in silence as she glided her hands along his neck, his shoulders, his chest. He’d grown so much since she’d last seen him, so much so that she hadn’t even been able to recognise him when he’d been standing right in front of her! But his heart still beat to the same rhythm and his eyes still lit up the same way whenever she met them and his scent still smelled of mint and freshly-watered grass. She whimpered softly, finally allowing herself to believe that he was real - he was real and he was there, right in front of her! - and Jason circled his arms completely around her.      

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body so tightly against his that he could feel her heart beating through her chest and against his. Jason pressed his lips into her hair and hugged her back just as firmly, vowing to himself to never let her go again - because nothing, he knew, would ever feel as right as this moment here, holding his best friend in his arms; the only person who had ever loved him as fiercely as he, too, had always loved her.

Tags: @stormz369

[hurriane23456]

Under the Wolf's Skin

Inside Zach Harper’s trailer, the small space buzzed with the sound of the movie set just beyond the walls. The stuntman sat on the edge of the narrow couch, fully suited in his werewolf costume. He rolled his ankle gingerly, testing the range of motion. The costume’s padded claws made it look like a menacing creature was flexing its paw, but behind the mask, Zach’s face was tense with discomfort.

Ethan stood by the door, watching his boss in silence. The costume was elaborate—dark grey fur streaked with black, muscles exaggerated by layers of foam padding, sharp claws extending from the gloves. The werewolf mask, with its snarling expression and glowing yellow eyes, completed the terrifying look. But Zach’s injury wasn’tsomething they’d planned for.

"I’m not gonna be able to do this, man," Zach finally said, breaking the silence. "I twisted my ankle coming out of the trailer. Not enough to sideline me, but enough that the flip off the building isn’t happening."

Ethan blinked, taking in the situation. "Wait, you mean…"

"You’re gonna have to wear it." Zach stood up, favoring his good ankle. "No one can know I’m hurt. We’ve got too much riding on this shot, and the crew’s already set. I need you to take my place. Now."

Ethan’s heart dropped. He had seen Zach putting on the gear earlier that day, piece by piece, transforming into the fierce werewolf. A part of Ethan had wondered then what it would feel like—what it would be like to step into that monstrous costume..

Zach looked at him steadily. "You’ve seen me do it enough times. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you could. But we’ve got to move fast. We’ll switch here, in the trailer."

Ethan exhaled deeply and nodded. There was no way out. He’d have to suit up. Ethan realized what this meant—he was about to slide into gear that Zach had been sweating in all day.

First, though, Ethan had to get out of his own clothes. As nonchalantly as possible, he pulled off his baseball cap, tossing it onto the counter. Then came his work polo, neatly tucked into his dress pants. Each item of clothing landed in a pile until he stood there in just his undershirt and boxers.

“Your turn,” Ethan said, his voice even.

Zach sighed as he removed the werewolf mask. The wet, sticky sound as it came off made Ethan cringe outwardly, but inside, he was wondering what it would feel like to wear. As Zach peeled off the costume next, Ethan's eyes flickered to the bodysuit—heavy with the day’s heat and effort. It was big, imposing, and everything about it screamed the physicality of the job.

Zach finally handed Ethan the first piece of gear, starting with the padded vest. It was still warm, slightly damp from Zach’s sweat, and though Ethan made a face as he pulled it over his shoulders, inside, he felt an odd thrill. The vest fit snugly, and with every strap he fastened, the reality of stepping into Zach’s shoes hit him—literally. The elbow and knee pads came next, and each one snapped into place with a satisfying click. Every layer made him feel more like the werewolf he was about to become, but he had to hide his excitement behind a mask of professionalism.

“How’s it feel?” Zach asked, watching Ethan as he fastened the gear.

“Warm,” Ethan muttered, keeping his tone light. “Definitely feels like a workout.”

In truth, he was buzzing with anticipation. The weight of the gear, the way it pressed into his body, made him feel more connected to the character than he expected. Finally, the costume itself came into play. Zach handed him the fur-covered suit, still slightly damp, and Ethan hesitated, trying to keep his enthusiasm in check.

Sliding into the werewolf costume, Ethan felt the weight settle on his shoulders, and it felt even better than he imagined. The bulk of it made him feel powerful, like a different person entirely. He zipped it up, hiding his expression behind the matted fur as he adjusted to the feel of it against his skin. The padding, the warmth, the heaviness—it all felt strangely satisfying.

Finally, Zach handed him the mask. It was drenched from earlier, but Ethan barely cared. He played it off with a groan, “Oh man, this thing’s soaked.”

But inside, he was buzzing. He slid it over his head, the foam padding clinging to his skin. The transformation was complete. Ethan flexed his fingers inside the massive clawed gloves and stood up straight, fully immersed in the role, even though he acted like he was doing a favor.

Meanwhile, Zach, left in just his boxers, sighed and glanced at Ethan’s clothes. “Guess I’m stuck with these.” He grabbed the polo and pants, grumbling as he put them on, though secretly, there was something amusing about it. The polo was snug, and the dress pants were a little too neat for his usual style, but as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he didn’t mind as much as he pretended.

“Man, I look like such a dork,” Zach said, tugging at the collar. He couldn’t help but smirk slightly, secretly enjoying how the clothes felt. “I’m blaming you if I trip in these shoes.”

Ethan, now fully suited in the werewolf costume, just chuckled, trying to keep his cool. “You’ll survive.”

But inside, he was thrilled. He had always wondered what it would feel like to step into Zach’s world, and now, fully suited and padded up, he couldn’t wait to hit the set and live out his secret excitement.

With a final nod, Ethan followed Zach’s lead and stepped out of the trailer. The bustling set was just ahead, and no one gave a second glance to the werewolf figure walking toward the rooftop. In the eyes of the crew, it was just another day for Zach, ready to execute another flawless stunt.

But under the layers of fur and padding, Ethan could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him—literally and figuratively. The heat inside the suit was overwhelming, and the gear still radiated with Zach’s warmth. His breath echoed inside the mask as he approached the set, nerves jangling beneath the werewolf exterior.

The director shouted for action. Ethan took his place at the edge of the rooftop, the wire attached to his harness. His hands, hidden inside the massive clawed gloves, flexed involuntarily. He could feel the ground shift beneath him as he got into position, his body tensing for the leap.

"Action!" came the call.

Ethan ran forward, the heavy paws of the costume thudding against the roof. With each step, the protective padding reminded him he was safe. He reached the edge, flung his arms wide in a terrifying lunge, and leaped. For a moment, he was airborne, the wire pulling taut as it guided his body into a perfect backflip.

Time slowed as he twisted in mid-air, the weight of the suit helping him complete the flip. He tucked his knees in just as Zach had taught him, then unfurled his arms and legs, bracing for the landing. The thick, padded feet of the werewolf costume hit the ground solidly, absorbing the shock of the impact.

He staggered slightly, but recovered in time to let out a fierce growl, throwing his arms wide as the werewolf. The crew applauded, none the wiser that it wasn’t Zach beneath the mask.

As Ethan stepped off the set, his heart still racing, Zach was waiting nearby, a proud smile on his face. "You pulled it off," Zach said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Not a single person knew."

Ethan pulled off the mask, gulping fresh air as sweat dripped down his face. "Yeah, but next time, I’m getting my own gear."

[starsxblazing]

hi! i absolutely love your writing and was wondering if you could do a request for azriel, a bit of angst with fluff.

i'm a very sensitive person and i get hurt by people easily and just let stuff get to me wayyyy too much. it just really gets me down and upset. looking for some comfort from az or cassian <3.

Perserverance

You overheard Feyre speaking to Mor about a simple mission that Cassian and Azriel were leaving for in the next two days. It was nothing more than hiding in the shadows and watching the target’s movements. You knew the general was capable of spying but you also knew that it wasn’t something that he particularly liked to do. It was a job that you wouldn’t mind doing, especially since it was with your mate.

The two of you could sit in complete silence for hours and it would never be uncomfortable. You both simply enjoyed each other's presence so you weren’t sure why you were overlooked. In truth, you were often exiled from missions because they thought you incapable, which hurt more than you could put into words. You weren’t anywhere near as skilled as they were, this much you knew, but you had been training hard.

“Did I hear you say that there’s a mission coming up?” you asked as you officially entered the sitting room with them, both females going still at your question.

“Cass and Az are heading out tomorrow,” Mor answered carefully. “It’s simple and should be quick.”

“I could take Cassian’s place and-”

“No.” Rhysand had entered the room with the three of you, his face set in his determined refusal. “You do not need to be anywhere near this.”

“But why not?” Your heart was hurting but you fought against the tears. “If it’s so simple and easy, if it’s just hiding, why can’t I be a part of it?”

“Because you aren’t-”

“It’s just hiding and watching!” you exclaimed, becoming more frustrated by the minute. “I’m perfectly capable of being quiet!”

“Nobody said that you weren’t,” Feyre replied gently as she tried to pull your attention to her. 

“You need more training than you have.” The High Lord sat beside his mate, an ankle crossed over a knee as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “The last thing that any of us need is for you to get hurt simply because we rushed you.”

“It’s spying for Mother’s sake.” You crossed your arms over your chest as the tears finally lined your eyes. “It’s not that hard-”

“Even a spying mission has the possibility of becoming an outright fight,” Rhys countered. “You’re not ready and nothing you say will change my mind.”

Just as the tears began to fall, you were running out of the river house and felt more defeated than ever. It was very rare to hear about a mission of Azriel’s missions going wrong because he had been spotted and that made it hurt worse. You finally made it home, the trip feeling longer than it usually was, and simply fell on the couch to cry.

You wanted nothing more than to help contribute to the court in some way but none of them ever gave you the chance. All that you had was wandering around Velaris or training with Cassian or your mate whenever they had the time to. It was the later hours of the night before Azriel returned home which was nothing unusual. You would never speak on it but all of the time apart weighed on you heavily, making you feel more lonely by the day.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

His worried voice sounded through the silence just as soon as he had his boots off. You weren’t able to conjure up a response, still stuck in the way that your heart ached. The couch dipped beside you and you felt the comforting warmness of him as he pulled you into his arms. He stroked your hair, a sweet and loving action that usually comforted you.

“Do you think I’m as useless as everyone else seems to think that I am?”

“What?” he asked, disbelief filling his voice. “Why would you think that?”

“Feyre was talking to Mor about your mission and they all basically told me that I wasn’t good enough.” More tears started but your mate simply held you until they subsided. “It’s just hiding and I just want to get some experience and help. I want to help you.”

“You help me every single day that you are still here waiting for me even though I am gone so often.” His voice was low and gentle, his hand still stroking your hair. “You are more than enough but we all love you and we don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“But I want to help!” you screamed, your breaths coming heavy as you stood.

“I know.” Azriel placed his forehead against yours, cupping your face in his scarred hands. “I know.”

He picked you up gently and carried you to your bedroom. The softness of your bed paired with his arms wrapped tightly around you when he joined you was enough to calm your breathing. Your quiet breaths was all that could be heard for a long time but it was comforting simply because he was with you. Any time that you got with him was cherished more than anything else in this world and you would be content to spend the rest of your life just as the two of you were now.

“I will tell Rhys in the morning that you are coming with us.” His voice was still soft as his hand rubbed gentle circles on your back. “With both me and Cassian with you, you will be well protected if something were to go wrong.”

“Really!?” you asked excitedly while leaning back to look at him, your previous heartache easing slightly.

“You will never learn unless you have true experience,” he answered, his gaze was confident but there was a hint of worry there. “I need you to promise me that you will still continue to train.”

“I will,” you agreed eagerly. “You are the best mate that a female could have.”

His answering grin was breathtaking and you could only press your lips to his. It was so easy to get lost in him every single time, always leaving him to be the one to pull away. You could never get enough and he was the brightest light of your life.

“I love you so, so much,” he murmured against your lips. “You are absolutely perfect.”

All that you could do was press your lips to his, reveling in the fact that at least one person would always have your back.

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